Guilty Pleasures
by tanithw
Summary: A slightly darker MM/HG than you're used to from me. If you don't like angst look away now. Irrational guilt is tearing Hermione and Minerva apart after a tragedy, they don't cope with it very well.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: This is set approximately 12 / 18 months after book 7, Voldemort died but his Death Eaters are still extremely active and the war continues. We'll learn more about those months later in a later chapter. I've been toying with this story concept for quite some time and here goes.**  
**Warning – This is going to be a rather darker story than normal – that said I hope you enjoy.**

**Sections in italics are set in the past (or are text from a newpaper etc.), sometimes they will be 'dated' but others will not be and will have happened at some point in the past.**

* * *

The day of the funeral had dawned miserable and grey, a slow but constant drizzle of rain had turned the cemetery into a pool of mud. Rows of mourners were seated on wet chairs and still more people were lined up behind them, everyone was soaked to the skin and shivering. Wind whistled through the trees around the graveyard, the kissing gate was creaking and muffled sobbing completed the eerie soundtrack of grief.

"Today we are here to remember the lives of a very special husband and wife, Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley Potter. They fought bravely as Gryffindors, loved fiercely and were full of integrity and honour. They chafed against the necessity of going into hiding, not wanting 'The Dark Lord' and his followers to win..."

The mourners listened to the minister, watching two coffins slowly being lowered into a huge hole in the frozen ground. A muffled wail was heard from the front row followed by uncontrollable weeping from several people. The soft but hollow sounding thud resounded across the graveyard as earth began to fill the hole bringing a chilling finality to the service.

In the front row Hermione Granger clung to the arm of her former professor; her long lashes were thick with tears, her alabaster skin was pale, her face drawn and tight, there were dark circles under her eyes. The presence of Minerva by her side was the only thing that kept the young woman from falling to her knees in grief, pain and guilt.

Such was the anguish written plainly on her face that few people wondered at the unusual degree of contact between her and Minerva McGonagall. It was obvious that Hermione needed support and that only the older woman was prepared to give it to her.

At the other end of the front row the Weasley family were huddled together, lost in their mutual grief – except for Ron, who was sitting stiffly in his chair staring at his former friend. The young man radiated an intense fury in Hermione's direction; his rage was the only thing that was keeping him from breaking down and surrendering to his sorrow. It was easier to blame her than himself.

Silently Hermione began weeping, it felt almost as though she had lost everything. The murders of her friends had cost them all dearly and she knew that the repercussions would continue for quite some time. She tightened her grip on Minerva, praying that this day would finally end.

* * *

Later that day

Hermione dropped her wet cloak over the fire guard watching as Minerva followed suit. Her black dress was rather damp but she paid it little heed now that they were back in the warmth of their flat. "I need a drink... Minerva?"

"...Thank you."

The young woman moved over to the well-stocked drinks cabinet and took out a decanter of muggle whisky, picking up two elegant crystal glasses and pouring a hefty slug of alcohol into each. Quick economical steps brought her to the coffee table where she put Minerva's on a coaster. Hermione sat down draining her glass in two gulps, she cupped it in her hands looking down as though she had never seen it before.

Minerva meanwhile was pacing backwards and forwards across the floor, looking like a caged animal desperate to escape or attack. The flat which had once been so full of love and joy was silent, was almost as silent as the graves that they had left behind.

"I can't help but feel guilty." The young womans voice was soft but not hesitant – she had to say what was on her mind, had needed to say it ever since that terrible night a week ago... The night that had changed everything. Wordlessly she summoned the decanter and prayed that Minerva would join her.

The older witch did come and sat on the sofa, next to Hermione but somehow seeming like she was much further away. "Mione... you have nothing to feel guilty about." There was a flatness to her words, almost as though she didn't believe what she was saying and she refused to meet the younger womans gaze.

Anger erupted in Hermione, coursing through every vein as she lept from her seat. "Like you don't feel it yourself!" She paused and lowered her voice slightly, unable to sustain it after so long in silence. "You barely even touch me any more – let alone anything else!"

Emerald green eyes hardened, looking up finally, "So this is about sex?" She took a swig of the amber liquid in her glass.

"Yes... No..." Hermione shook her head, "This is about US Minerva... I... I miss you." Her breath hitched, "I look into your eyes and it's like you aren't even there." With shaking hands she reached out and poured herself another drink. "And I don't know how to fix it."

Minerva was silent for a few minutes, she was considering the truth in Hermione's words. The younger woman had always been extremely perceptive but right now she didn't want to hear the truth. When she finally spoke, her words were halting at first but then came out in a rush. "We... were... together... when they were killed. I cannot forget that. People are starting to question the true nature of our relationship. Mr Potter and Miss Weasley are quite possibly dead because of it. I am not sure that I can do this any more Hermione."

Chocolate eyes widened, full of pain at the enormity of what her lover had just said. She had to try and salvage something. "But neither of us is responsible." It was scarcely more than a whisper.

Minerva's voice was tight, carefully controlled, "If you had not been in **my bed** would you... have been there?"

They stared at each other for a long time without speaking. Hermione's reply was so quiet that only animagus hearing could have picked it up, "Yes."

The older witch let her body sag against the sofa, her entire posture and body language screaming defeat. "I cannot let personal feelings or entanglements get in the way of... my career... or my work with the Order." A tired hand rubbed across elegant features, "I should have known better... I should never have allowed this to start in the first place." She clung to the simple excuses that were little better than lies.

"So, what...? After **eight months **you are going to throw me away because our relationship isn't convenient? Minerva, we can get through this. I love you and I know that you love me."

"That is not the issue!" The words were clipped, pure Professor McGonagall.

"It is."

"I am sorry Hermione." The older witch stood and started to gather her belongings. The only sign of how distraught she truly happened to be - was the fact that she had forgotten to use magic. She blindly grabbed a handful of books from the shelf and headed into the bedroom. Her face was tight and pale as though she was trying to repress all emotion.

Minerva couldn't stop moving, the frantic pace was the only thing that kept her from crying or changing her mind. She tossed a suitcase onto their bed, threw the books inside and began to grab clothing out of the dresser. Habitual neatness was forgotten as she stuffed whatever came to hand into the small case.

She turned to see Hermione in the doorway, the young woman still had an empty glass in her hand – the part of Minerva's brain that was still clinical remembered when they had picked out the set together, how happy they had been... She forcibly repressed the memory, the last thing she needed to think about was them setting up the home that she was in the process of destroying.

"So... It's over because you say it's over?"

"It has to be this way." There was not even the slightest amount of regret in Minerva's voice, so tightly had she bound her emotions.

"Get out!" Hermione's words were quiet but spoken with an underlying pain and fury. Grief-stricken chocolate eyes met green orbs filled with something like agony.

Clutching her case in one hand Minerva walked past Hermione and opened the front door. "I really am sorry." Without a backwards glance she left, closing the door quietly behind her. Paying no heed to the sounds of sobbing and breaking glass.

* * *

The following week

"_Continuing in our coverage of the murder of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, The Daily Prophet has breaking news of what seems to be a rift between the two remaining members of the Golden Trio. As previously reported by our own Rita Skeeter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were not even talking at the funeral. We have discovered that Miss Granger sent an owl to The Order of the Phoenix resigning from the organisation, two days later._

_We have been unable to obtain a comment from Miss Granger who is in seclusion in her Sussex home. Head of the Order Minerva McGonagall refused to comment when asked about the rift but did issue a statement about membership being voluntary and that any Order member could resign at any time. When asked why Hermione Granger sent an owl rather than appearing in person McGonagall again refused to comment._

_We will bring you more details on this in a future edition."_

* * *

Five Months Later

The only sound in the flat was the scratching of a quill and the crackling of the fire. It was calm and peaceful, almost like a library. There had been few changes since Minerva had left; the gaping holes in the bookcase had been filled by new volumes and she had moved a desk into the living room. The smashed drinks cabinet had been removed but not replaced.

Hermione cocked her head and stopped her note taking, listening for that unaccustomed noise that had disturbed her peace a few moments ago. The knock came again and she dropped her quill, standing up and facing the door. Instinct and memory told her who stood on the other side – only one person in the world had a knock that distinctive.

_A year earlier_

_Ginny had snuck out of the bedroom they shared in the Order safe house to go and see Harry, leaving Hermione alone. She swiftly brushed her chestnut curls and sprayed on some perfume, knowing that her friends departure would have been noticed. A decisive but quiet knock came on the door and she rushed to let in her lover._

_Swift but passionate kisses followed, the two intertwined women falling onto the bed. Hermione's hands slid into Minerva's shirt, caressing eager skin. They tore themselves apart when they heard someone coming up the stairs. "I hate this... hiding... sneaking around to be together."_

"_It's not forever Minerva... um... I pick up the keys to my new flat next week. Now that it's a bit safer we can get out of this bloody house... Everyone is going their own separate ways in any case... If you want to..?"_

"_You want me to move in with you?"_

Moving numbly as if in a dream Hermione reached out and opened the door, her pulse was racing and her heart was hammering in her chest. Standing on the other side was a rather sheepish looking Minerva McGonagall.

"Hello." The husky timbre in the Scottish brogue, washed over Hermione's senses like a warm embrace, achingly familiar. She closed her eyes for a long moment, letting herself bask in the remembered glow.

"Hi."

They stared for a few minutes, just drinking in the sight of each other.

"May I come in?" No one who knew Minerva would have recognised her voice in that moment, it was shaking as much as her hands were. The younger woman stepped back, not trusting herself to speak.

She watched the older witch walk into the sitting room, watched as she surveyed the familiar surroundings. "I... I'm going to make a pot of tea." Hermione retreated into the kitchen and held onto the sideboard for desperately needed support.

Minerva walked over to the desk, glancing down at the papers neatly stacked on it – using the distraction of the notes to steady herself. Emerald eyes sought the archway into the kitchen, both calmed and agitated by the knowledge that the woman she loved was only a room away. She drifted over to the sofa and sank into the cushions.

_Hermione smiled hopefully up at her. "Sit down and see how comfortable it is."_

"_It is a lot of money for a second hand settee."_

"_Sit." The smile was intimate now, laughter in her tone. Minerva sat down unable to muffle a sigh of contentment – it had been a long day of shopping in muggle Chichester and she was exhausted, "I told you so."_

"_It is a little tatty. Distressed even."_

"_Vintage... it's got character."_

_The shopkeeper had retreated into the back of the muggle antique shop, giving the two women some privacy. Minerva glanced around to check that they were alone and slid her arm around the younger witch – pulling her to rest against a slender shoulder, dropping a soft kiss on coral lips. "And you really have your heart set on this?"_

"_Yup."_

_Minerva stood pulling her wallet from her shoulder bag and raised her voice, "We'll take it!" _

An elegant hand ran over the scratched leather arm that was as familiar to her as the furniture in her rooms at Hogwarts. She waited for several minutes until Hermione finally came out of the kitchen with a tea tray, the younger woman was obviously avoiding her eyes and sat nervously on the other end of the sofa.

Another minute passed by in silence. "I got an advance copy of your book."

Hermione finally looked up and took a ragged breath, "What did you think?"

"Brilliant. You have an engaging way of addressing your subject... bringing magical history to life, as it were." She smiled tremulously, "I am truly impressed."

The younger witch nodded, "The reviews have been fairly good."

"Overwhelmingly good in fact. The Prophet called it groundbreaking."

Hermione swallowed hard, not quite daring to ask what she wanted to – why Minerva was here, she didn't want to jinx whatever had brought the older woman back to their home. "How's work?"

Back on familiar ground the Headmistress relaxed a little. "You know Hogwarts, most things never change. Slughorn wants bigger quarters, the governors are arguing and the Ministry is debating policy."

The young woman picked up a tea cup in hands that were no longer shaking, she brought it to her lips and took a sip. Her chocolate eyes were intently looking into piercing emerald green, watching an inner conflict rage within their depths.

"Hermione I..." Minerva shook her head, pausing for a long moment.

"Don't!" The brunettes voice cracked and she put the cup back onto the tray with a clatter, a few steps took her to the window. She stared out at the darkness. "Don't you dare say that you're sorry..." She rested her head against the cool glass, unable to cry - too many tears had already been shed in the last five months and now she only felt numb. Her tone dropped to a barely audible whisper, "Not unless you mean it."

Minerva stood and couldn't stop herself from walking over to Hermione, couldn't help but slide her arms around the slender waist, needing to comfort the younger witch. "I missed you." Another minute passed in silence, the two women trembling in an awkward embrace – something had to give.

When the younger witch turned around Minerva didn't release her arms, in fact she tightened her grip. They were face to face with only inches between them, both breathing faster than normal – the very air was charged, eyes were bright with emotion. Hermione raised a shaking hand to cup the older womans cheek, caressing the soft skin.

They both began moving forward at the same moment, lips seeking the familiar comfort of their mate. Passion flared brightly between them, wiping away everything that had happened in the last five months and in that timeless moment they were just two women very much in love.

* * *

Minerva couldn't sleep, she was desperately tired but unable to drop off. Thoughts of the younger woman had been interrupting her rest for months – finally unable to resist the overwhelming need that had built up inside her, she had come to see Hermione.

Brunette curls rested on her bare shoulder, soft breath caressed her skin and the familiar scent of her lover filled her nostrils. She honestly had never intended to end up in Hermione's arms, much less her bed but the events of the previous evening had taken on a momentum of their own.

The Headmistress had never been able to control her need for the younger woman, not since the day when she had first seen love shining up at her from the chocolate eyes of her former student – knowing that her deeply hidden feelings were returned. She buried her face in Hermione's unruly tresses, silent tears cascading down her cheeks. Remembering how their relationship had begun in secret, how they had built a life together in secret, how their secret guilt had torn them apart, how she had destroyed their future in secret and how they would have to move on with their lives – in secret, without even the comfort of each other.

Minerva began to shake; the irrational guilt that she felt over Harry and Ginny's murders and the remorse she had experienced over hurting Hermione was slowly but surely tearing her apart. She couldn't concentrate at work, spending most of her days pacing in her office – thinking about the things that she had lost. The events after the funeral had torn them apart and age obviously did not automatically bestow wisdom because she had no idea how to fix what had happened between the two of them.

She was so focussed on her own misery and inner turmoil that she did not notice the younger witch stirring in her arms. "...Minerva... What's wrong?"

Silent tears turned into choked sobbing, "...Everything."

Hermione turned and sat up, pulling the older womans head to rest on her bare chest. Eyes were brimming with her own tears as she whispered sweet nothings into ebony hair. She couldn't tell Minerva that everything would be ok because she honestly did not know if it would be – or if it even could be.

The sky outside the window began to brighten before the Headmistress managed to stop crying, it was the first time that she had succumbed to what she saw as an indulgence since the day she had left. "I cannot comprehend why this is so hard... so painful."

Hermione tightened her jaw, "Perhaps because you cannot repress your emotions where I am concerned."

Shocked once again by the insight that the younger woman had into her mind, her soul and her heart – Minerva swallowed a sob, closing her eyes for a moment. Hermione was spot on. "In my entire life... **nothing**... has managed to affect me the way that you do."

"But..?"

Emerald eyes opened wide as Minerva lifted her head gazing into resigned but hard mocha orbs. "But... Nothing has changed in the last five months. I still wake up at night guilty over what happened and our relationship is still as ill-advised as it ever was... I should never have come here last night."

"If that's the way you feel, then no you shouldn't have."

The ebony haired witch pushed herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed, she lowered her head into her hands and tried to harden her heart, tried to retreat behind the walls that defined Minerva McGonagall. "I have to get back to Hogwarts."

"...Sure."

Trying hard to ignore the tone in Hermione's voice Minerva stood and began to dress. She kept her eyes focussed on what her hands were doing and not on the naked temptress lying on the bed that they had shared. She was terrified that if she looked back, she wouldn't have the strength to leave.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Thank you all for the reviews, this story is going to be angsty and dark - however my wonderful beta would literally kill me if there wasn't a happy ending. So just sit back and enjoy the ride. Again italics are flashbacks or letters.**

* * *

Flourish & Blotts – Six weeks later

Hermione put another set of books into her trolley, she had only recently received her royalties cheque from the publication of her book. She was partly indulging herself and partly gathering research material for her next bestseller. "Do you intend to take every history book from our rare section Miss Granger?"

The young witch turned to face the shop assistant, "Not quite yet." Spying another valuable volume on a top shelf, she summoned it gently not wanting to damage the fragile binding. "I'm done for now."

"Let me take that trolley for you." Without another word the man pushed it towards the till and began to calculate her bill.

As Hermione turned to follow she saw a flash of emerald green robes through the window. "Excuse me." She rushed to the door, hoping to catch sight of the person and see if it was who she thought it might have been.

Stepping out into the bright sunlight of Diagon Alley she looked in every direction but saw nothing. "Crap!" Despite Minerva's actions, the guilt that she herself felt and everything that had happened – Hermione was still desperate for even the smallest glimpse of her former lover. She hesitated for a few minutes, waiting in vain for the older woman to reappear.

"Miss Granger?" Reluctantly she tore herself away from the futile hope and stepped back into the dim interior of the shop. The man handed her an invoice for her purchases, she took it – scrawling her signature dismissively on the parchment. "Do you want us to deliver these to your home address?"

"No I'll take them with me." Her tone was curt but not rude, her mind was firmly fixed on Minerva and she didn't have the patience to deal with idle banter. A flick of her wand shrunk her purchases and she placed them in her shoulder bag. "Thank you."

Once again she left the shop, this time heading in the direction of The Leaky Cauldron, intending to walk at least part of the way home. There was nothing waiting for her in the flat, it would be cold and lonely – walking through the streets of London was almost preferable to that. Maybe she would grab a takeaway on the way, cooking for one was hardly thrilling.

Thinking about Minerva all the time was driving her insane. Hermione alternated between hating the older witch for walking out and believing that it was the right decision. The last six months had not enabled either of them to move on and despite everything she was still head over heels in love with the Headmistress.

* * *

_Hermione_

_Stop writing to me! I said everything I wanted to already. It'd not like I don't feel guilty too..._

_But you could have stopped them... You could have saved Harry and Ginny._

_I'll always blame you for that_

_I'll always hate you for that_

_...We should have been there together._

_And it's your fault we weren't, why weren't you there for them... or for me?_

_I don't know you anymore, I don't want to know you_

_- Ron_

* * *

A week later – Hogwarts – Friday evening

It was Minerva's free weekend, when she didn't strictly have to be on duty. However during her long tenure at Hogwarts, she had rarely taken a weekend completely off – until that wonderful time when she had... been with Hermione that was, they had spent every available minute together.

Remembering this made her sigh, while she hadn't stopped thinking about HER – active thoughts were an almost physical blow to her heart.

Somehow it had gotten to be eleven o'clock and Minerva was no more relaxed than she had been at dinner. In fact she had been pacing ever since. Quiet, solitary evenings with a book no longer held the same appeal that they once had.

She gave an exasperated growl from between clenched teeth. It seemed that lately she was of little use to anyone – all she did was pace around her rooms thinking about what she had done, what she had lost and the murder of two former students. But mostly she thought about the events of two months prior... The way that Hermione had yielded to her touch; the feel of soft young skin under her fingers, the taste of the other witch on her lips.

Irrationally Minerva tried to run from her own thoughts, she tore open the door and while careful to make her walk look purposeful – she fled, neglecting to pick up a jacket or cloak. Blindly but unerringly she made her way through the dim corridors, ducking out of a side door and away from the castle.

More than an hour passed with the Headmistress walking aimlessly through the grounds. Gradually cold Scottish rain soaked through every layer that she was wearing and chilled her to the bone. She wasn't surprised when her wandering brought her to the gates. Emotion was obviously overpowering her judgement because she said to herself, "What harm would it do just to pay her a visit?" She gave her password to the gates watching them open noiselessly before stepping outside of the wards and vanishing into the night.

* * *

The flat

There was no reply to Minerva's knock.

All manner of thoughts rushed through her mind; was Hermione out? Maybe she was hurt? What if she was with someone else? In a state of abject confusion, worry and hurt Minerva stuck her hand into her pocket, pulling out her key. There was a part of her that knew that the younger woman had not changed the locks, something that was proven correct when the key turned smoothly. The Headmistress let herself in.

The living room was dimly lit by a dying fire. Flickering flames caused shadows to move but did not serve to illuminate anything. Minerva's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and she looked around her, for a moment forgetting about Hermione as she noticed a few changes.

A huge pile of books was stacked up against the wall by the desk. Nearby was a large cardboard box, Minerva leaned closer and read the printing – it was a flat packed bookshelf. She snorted quietly, never having liked mass produced furniture.

The sound of soft breathing drew her across the room to the sofa. Tears welled up in elegant eyes blurring the sight of Hermione lying fast asleep with an open book in her hand. The Headmistress sighed in relief, all of her anxiety outside the door had been for nothing. She raised a hand, silently summoning a blanket from the trunk in the spare room. In mere seconds a thick tartan blanket sailed into her outstretched palm.

Carefully, gently Minerva spread the cover over Hermione's body. She couldn't help it when she bent over and pressed a tender kiss against the younger womans temple. Softly she took the book from clasping fingers, put a bookmark inside it and placed it silently on the table.

She should have left then, should have gone back to Hogwarts but despite everything this still felt like home to her, even though she had turned her back on it. Minerva walked back over to the fire and piled on fresh wood, wanting to keep Hermione warm. She then used magic to unpack and assemble the bookshelf, please that despite being flatpacked – it will still made of real wood and was rather elegant. There was a place prepared for it in the alcove next to the chimney, she levitated the piece of furniture into place.

It was then that she became aware that she was killing time, that she was being a little noisier than she needed to. On some level it seemed that Minerva wanted Hermione to wake up, she snorted again this time in self-disgust. With another long look at the younger witch, she left the flat returning to her lonely quarters at Hogwarts.

* * *

When Hermione awoke the next morning she knew that there was something different. She lay with her eyes closed, trying to puzzle out what it was. Straining her ears for any sound, she was disappointed – there was nothing to be heard. She was far warmer than she should have been, the fire should have gone out and without a blanket the flat would get rather chilly. Then she realised that the fire was still alight and that she was underneath a blanket.

"Minerva?" She cried out opening her eyes and sitting up.

There was no answer...

Hermione threw the blanket off of her and searched her home but the older witch was nowhere to be found. There was a faint lingering smell of the Headmistresses' perfume but she was not there. Tears were running down her cheeks as she went back into the living room. What she found there made her laugh through her tears.

Not only had her love built up the fire, she had also built her bookcase and stacked the books on it. Alphabetically by sub-category – just the way that Hermione liked. She stared at that caring gesture for a long time before dropping to her knees crying harder than before.

_

* * *

_

Their shopping trip for supplies desperately needed by the Order had been completed in silence. Both women shocked by the revelations they had made the previous evening, neither willing to breaking the taboo and risk loosing what they had. Over the course of the day there had been occasions when their eyes had met and held before reluctantly tearing apart.

_Hermione was not entirely surprised when Minerva took a detour on the way back to their Scottish hideout, she merely followed quietly knowing that the older woman was not the type to let things fester between them indefinitely. Recent months had gotten her used to a broom and she confidently landed beside her friend on a deserted hillside somewhere in Northumbria._

"_Minerva?"_

"_You must realise that this is anything but a good idea... do you not Hermione?"_

_The younger woman took a moment to look at the tall elegant witch who was standing facing an impressive (albeit English) vista and who was pointedly avoiding looking at her. She knew in her heart that the time for words was past, she would have to speak with something stronger – actions. A few steps brought her closer to the tense witch and with confidence born of emotion she wrapped her arms around Minerva, holding her tightly. She felt rather than heard the sigh of relief that the older woman gave._

_Slowly, softly Hermione placed her forehead between Minerva's shoulder blades, smelling the freshness of the air that they had ridden through and the scent that she had always associated with the former professor. "I think it's too late for that Minerva. I can't help how I feel about you and to be totally honest I don't want to change it."_

"_What do you want?"_

"_You know what I want, the question is what do you want Minerva McGonagall?"_

_The older witch spun around catching her by surprise, steadying Hermione with a hand on her hip. Emerald green eyes bored deeply into chocolate and elegant fingers caressed her cheek. "For the first time in my life... I want to be daring and reckless... I want to throw caution and propriety to the wind and... kiss you. But I should not."_

"_Then kiss me."_

_Minerva froze when she heard the quiet whisper, unconsciously she licked her lips. A moment passed before they leaned in towards each other, unable to resist what they had both desired for so long. The first touch of their lips was nothing short of electric._

* * *

Two weeks later – Friday evening – The flat

Hermione had been determined not to fall asleep tonight, she didn't want to miss a chance to see Minerva as she had a fortnight previously. There was little chance of her napping because she was on edge, she had been jittering for hours – unable to settle down to read, write or even watch tv. She had tidied the flat several times and showered twice, dinner had been cooked and consigned to the bin uneaten in minutes. She would turn on the wireless for a moment before silencing it.

Eventually she resorted to the Minerva McGonagall habit of pacing. At least it passed the time.

The quest to empty her mind was so successful that she never heard the key that turned quietly in the door. Hermione paced fast and frantically, trying to keep her turmoil under strict control. She never saw when Minerva stepped into the room. She did hear when the older witch spoke in a voice that was cracking with repressed emotion.

"If you keep doing that you will wear a hole in the carpet."

Shocked chocolate eyes widened as the younger woman spun around to face her lover. When Hermione spoke her voice was barely a whisper, "That's my line." And it was true, she had uttered that phrase innumerable times during their relationship and for a moment their roles seemed to have been reversed.

"You neglected to copyright it."

They stood staring at each other in silence. Their relationship and the situation made small talk impossibly trite and they really had nothing to speak about, everything that they needed to say had been said.

At the same moment both women strode towards the other, hands grasping whatever they could reach, lips crashing together in a fierce needy kiss, bodies pressing. Clothes were shed in seconds, as access to bare skin became more important than anything. Hermione's mouth moved onto Minerva's neck, sucking and licking – leaving her mark on the older woman, something that she had never before done due to the threat of discovery.

Ignoring the blatent breach of their agreement, Minerva's fingers trailed across erect coral nipples – suddenly squeezing the tender flesh. She grinned when Hermione yelped in surprise and pleasure. It was her turn to let out a startled exclamation when hands gripped her buttocks, pulling her closer still.

Their bodies were wrapped around each other as they heavily fell onto the sofa. Hermione grazed the inside of Minerva's thigh with her fingernails, running them lightly up and down the sensitive skin – with each pass her fingers moved closer and closer to the older woman's centre.

The Headmistress took a handful of chestnut tresses, gently pulling Hermione's lips from her shoulder and into a kiss. Her fingers ran over the young womans body, tracing prominent ribs – tears slipped from beneath her lashes, she knew that she was mostly responsible for the state of her lover. An impatient, infuriated hand grabbed hers.

Hermione knew that Minerva was crying and she knew why. The last thing that she wanted was another heartbreaking conversation, she needed the older woman and she was prepared to take whatever she could get. She firmly guided the elegant hand she had seized down her body and between her legs, hearing Minerva groan before her breathing accelerated in excitement.

Nimble fingers explored the familiar landscape of Hermione's sex, overjoyed at the evidence of her arousal. The woman underneath her thrust her hips upwards, desperately trying to increase the contact, needing more than teasing. Obligingly a single finger traced her slit, feeling Hermione shiver as it grazed her erect nub.

"Please..."

Minerva's touch grew firmer, surer as she felt Hermione's familiar response. Without preamble she thrust two fingers inside the younger womans core delighting in the incoherent yowl that escaped coral lips. She leant over and captured them with her own, muffling further cries with a passionate kiss. This was the moment that she had dreamt of, not of her own pleasure but of having Hermione's naked body writhing beneath hers. It felt like finally being home again.

* * *

The next morning

Hermione awoke when weak morning light came through the curtains, slowly she moved her head and looked down to see Minerva curled up fast asleep against her. She smirked at the sight, no one who knew the great Professor McGonagall would believe that she could look this vulnerable and it made the older woman dearer to her.

Last night they had made it into the bedroom on the fourth attempt as though suspecting that this was the last time that they would make love. They had done so with almost animalistic abandon, utilising spells and techniques that they rarely used. Hermione felt herself grow wet again, remembering how Minerva had felt inside her and she squirmed, trying not to wake the older woman.

The older woman was in fact awake and had been for some time. The last thing that she wanted to do was reveal that fact. She had come to the flat the previous evening without even a pretext, giving in reluctantly to the part of her that cried out for Hermione. She knew that she would shortly be leaving the warmth of their bed and returning to her lonely rooms at Hogwarts – she wanted to delay the inevitable for as long as possible.

Soon she would tear herself away from soft yielding skin, make an excuse that rang false to her own ears and turn away from hurt, accusing chocolate eyes. Emotion had backed the normally rational Headmistress into a situation where she could no longer live with Hermione but time had proven that she could not live without her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Thank you all for the reviews, I'm glad that you're all reading in spite of the angst. This chapter is set quite some time after the previous one and things have not improved in the intervening time.**

* * *

Hermione sat on a log overlooking a large lake surrounded by pine forest, listening to the sounds of the English woodland around her. For three years she had withdrawn further and further from society. She was still taking long walks but she did not want to be around people.

Even here she would occasionally see people with their friends, families with children... every time she saw them it reminded her of everything that she had lost and everything she would never have. It hurt, bitterly but it had been years since she had shed tears and so she didn't even possess that small method of reaching a resolution.

She had last cried the morning after Minerva's sixth or seventh 'visit'.

Hermione plucked four stones from the sandy soil and tossed them one by one into the lake. One for every year that her life had been a complete mess. Today was the anniversary of the funeral, it was the one day when she couldn't bear to be in the flat – it brought back far too many memories.

She slipped off of the log and lay on the grass, trying to force her mind back to a time when things had been better. There had been a time when she harboured hopes that things would change, that Minerva would come back to her, that they would both get over their guilt and continue building their life together. But Hermione had long since given up hope of that.

Nothing had changed, some time would pass and Minerva would arrive unannounced at the flat. Two weeks or a few months would go by before the older woman showed up again. At first they would exchange small talk prior to ending up in bed together and afterwards they would doze before the older woman left. Time had changed that; most times now they rarely spoke except in the heat of passion. Minerva had started leaving earlier and earlier – she no longer slipped out of bed at dawn, often nowadays she would leave as soon as her breathing slowed.

Slowly but surely her actions were destroying Hermione's spirit.

* * *

A long time passed while Hermione was lost in her thoughts. She missed the sound of something crashing through the bushes and trees until it was very close to her. The young woman fumbled at her pockets for a moment before remembering that she had left her wand in her other jacket – it was rare nowadays that she used magic and so she had forgotten the most basic rule, that of carrying her wand with her at all times. With little choice Hermione stood up and prepared to meet whatever it was. She picked up a stout branch and planted her feet firmly.

When a large dog burst out of the bushes Hermione lowered the stick. It looked friendly enough but it was very exuberant, jumping up at her. Huge paws left muddy prints on her stomach and chest as it bounced up and down barking excitedly. It was a split second before she over-balanced and landed in the thick mud.

A frustrated call attracted the attention of the dog before it turned its attention to Hermione once again. A huge tongue started to lathe her face and she spluttered before beginning to laugh for the first time in years. The dogs owner trotted down one of the narrow trails between the trees and stopped dead looking at Hermione.

"Hermione Granger?"

The young woman pushed the dog away and stood up. "...Madam Hooch?"

Rolonda Hooch was renowned by many as being a typical blonde athlete, most people never took the time to realise that she was an extraordinarily intuitive and intelligent woman. It was part of why she was such a good Quidditch player, she could sum up a situation in seconds. The younger woman was pale and thin; her brown eyes were dull, haunted and she looked far older than her twenty four years. "Just Hooch."

Hermione nodded, "Ok." Her voice was slightly hoarse as though she was unused to speaking aloud.

Yellow eyes were still intently watching the young woman as Hooch bent down and clipped the lead to the dogs collar, pulling him away so that Hermione could get up. When she stood, sheets of mud poured off of her and she helplessly brushed at her clothes. A blonde eyebrow rose enquiringly, wondering why the young woman didn't just scourigfy herself.

"I... forgot my wand."

Hooch was shocked to say the least. No witch or wizard would leave their wand at home, even that idiot Xenophilius Lovegood took his wand with him. Hermione had lowered her eyes and her head – almost as though she was expecting to be berated or beaten. For some unknown reason it made Hooch furious, even as a first year student the brunette had an inner fire – she wondered what on earth had happened to her in the last four years.

Without showing her anger or even saying anything about it Hooch pulled out her wand and performed the spell herself. "This is Havoc." She indicated the dog. "I only got him on Friday."

Hermione bent down and stroked the much calmer dog, "Aptly named aren't you boy? And you're just a big puppy."

"Is he? I don't know much about him."

The younger woman pulled back his floppy lips and looked at his teeth. "He's about eight or nine months old."

Hooch saw some animation on her face when she spoke about the dog or to the dog – it was completely lacking the rest of the time. "Do you know much about dogs then?" She hoped that Hermione would say yes, not because she wanted help with Havoc but because it looked like the younger woman was the one who needed help.

"I had several as a child."

"That's more than I know. Do you have time to help me?... There's a cafe over the road."

Hermione was silent for a few minutes, her loneliness warring with the habits of the past three years. "Ok."

* * *

Hermione toyed with the stirrer in her Styrofoam cup. They were sat at a wooden bench under tall pine trees at the side of the car park. Havoc lay quietly beneath the table, tethered to the sturdy wood – neither of the women were fooled by the calm behaviour. They had spent a long time mostly talking about the dog, her social skills were rusty but Hermione was making the effort.

"Hagrid has offered to look after him while I'm working but as I only spend two days a week at Hogwarts..." Hooch paused when she saw Hermione give a barely perceptible flinch at the word, filing the reaction for later. "And I live away from... work... it seemed like the right time to get a dog, I was lonely." Hermione nodded but said nothing, she would have needed ten dogs to deal with her isolation.

Gradually the conversation changed but Hooch astutely kept it from getting too personal, not wanting to push the younger woman into leaving, "You're on what? Book six, book seven?"

"I am editing the eighth now." Hermione allowed herself a prideful smile but to Hooch it seemed hollow, empty. "It's about magical schooling before the foundation of H... a central school."

"Sounds interesting... do you have a Quidditch chapter?"

Hermione smiled again but this time it was unforced and genuine, albeit brief. "Perhaps in a later book."

"Have you decided what the next one is going to be about?"

* * *

Saturday morning – The flat

Hermione threw the dirty sheets into the washing basket, the material still held the scent of Minerva and of sex. This morning the smell made her feel worthless, small and dirty. She slammed the bathroom door behind her angrily. "Shit."

Clean bedding was unceremoniously grabbed from the airing cupboard and tossed onto the mattress. "Shit."

Shaking out the quilt cover, Hermione started stuffing the duvet into it. "Shit." She dropped onto the bed, curled up into a ball and began to cry for the first time in years. Deep heart-wrenching sobs were drawn from the depths of her soul and she began to shake all over. The liaison that she was currently having with Minerva was a parody of what they had once shared and they both knew it.

Hermione whimpered, knowing that she was to blame as much as the older woman was. She had always had the opportunity to say no and Minerva would have stopped. Desperation to keep any part of her woman had stopped her from speaking out and had twisted their love into little more than casual sex.

"_I thought we'd never get some time alone together..." Hermione's arms wrapped around Minerva's neck, pulling the older woman close._

"_Being in charge does have its perks." A hand slipped into chestnut curls, caressing her head lovingly._

"_...Like urgent Order missions that require the two of us to spend the night in a hotel together?"_

"_Exactly. And it was urgent."_

_Hermione brushed her lips gently across Minerva's in a promise of deeper contact to come. "I did 'offer' to take care of that urgency..."_

"_Mmmm... a quick fumble in your bedroom while Ginevra is out? A passionate romp in one of the library chairs whilst hoping that no one wants in for a book? Or perhaps under the kitchen table when everyone is asleep." Minerva smirked in a way that gave Hermione goosebumps._

"_Well firstly we could look the doors."_

"_Indeed... and secondly?"_

"_Secondly... ON the table maybe but not under it."_

"_On the table? My, my... it seems you have a naughty streak."_

_Hermione's hands grasped Minerva's hips, pressing their bodies intimately together. "It seems like you're about to find out."_

_The older woman chuckled, elegant fingers nimbly starting to unbutton Hermione's shirt. "I did not want our first time to be a 'hole in the corner' affair in a broom cupboard. You mean more to me than a casual conquest. It might be slightly old fashioned but I want to do this the right way." _

The memory made Hermione cry harder. Her sobs becoming wails and animalistic howls as she gave into every repressed emotion from the past four years.

* * *

That afternoon

Hermione looked up from her work to see a strange owl at the window, it was politely refraining from tapping the glass but was eagerly hopping from leg to leg. She chuckled and let it in assuming that it was from her publisher. She took an owl treat from the jar on her desk and gave it to the handsome bird.

Gently she untied the message from its leg. Her first name was written on the envelope in an untidy, unfamiliar scrawl. Curiously she opened it, noting that the bird didn't leave – it had obviously been instructed to wait for a reply.

_Dear Hermione_

_Havoc and I enjoyed your company last week. We are planning to have a nice long walk in the New Forest tomorrow morning, would you like to join us?_

_Hooch_

Hermione sighed, not sure what to make of the invitation. It had been years since she had been given one and years since she had a friend. A glance back to the bedroom reminded her of her earlier break-down and without further thought she replied to the note in the affirmative.

* * *

Seven months later – Holyhead Quidditch Stadium

"I still can't believe you dragged me here..." Hermione grinned at the spiky haired woman to take the sting out of her words.

"You... subjected me to that terrible... movie the other night."

"I suppose it's a fair trade."

"Uh-huh. Now stop whining and eat your chips."

Hermione laughed as yellow eyes focussed on the Quidditch practice that they were watching. She obediently started to munch, well used to Hooch insisting that she eat by now. Over the last few months she had regained most of the weight that she had lost and no longer looked quite as fragile. Despite the older womans best attempts she had still not gained an appreciation for Quidditch.

Hooch might have been outwardly watching the flying but her mind was elsewhere, on her companion. It had taken time and care to bring Hermione out of her shell, unfortunately it was a loosing battle due to another influence – a negative one. Without knowing all of the details there was nothing that she could do, except be there for the younger woman.

With that thought in mind she turned and stole a handful of chips from the paper wrapper in Hermione's lap. "Oy!" Hooch smirked and shrugged, nudging the younger woman with her shoulder. "Are you going to take the job?"

"Huh?"

"Hooch... everyone here is extremely deferential to you and the team are obviously trying to impress. The logical assumption is that they want you to coach."

A spiky head shook, "I keep telling them that I need time to think about it."

"What, you've gotten used to working two days a week?"

"Something like that, plus I don't know... I like my job." She shrugged before stealing Hermione's last chip. In complete contradiction of her earlier ambivalence Hooch lept to her feet and started yelling something at the Chaser that the younger woman found completely incomprehensible.

A few minutes later the players landed next to the changing rooms and Hermione stood up. "All done?"

"Yep, come with me – there's someone I want you to meet." Hooch marvelled as the younger woman followed her to the clubhouse. A few months earlier Hermione would have refused outright to meet anyone, even a few weeks ago she would have been painfully shy but thankfully progress had been made. "Hey Jules!"

A tall red-head in a tailored muggle business suit turned to face them. "Hoochy." She walked over and clapped the spiky haired witch on the shoulder, turning an oddly intense gaze on Hermione who returned it curiously.

"Julie Kerrigan, I'd like you to meet Hermione... Hermione this is trouble on two legs."

The two women greeted each other in typical reserved English fashion and chatted briefly before Hermione excused herself. Hooch watched her walk towards the restrooms before turning to her former lover. "Well, well Hoochy, you're a dark horse."

"It's not like that."

"Not like that because..?"

"It's complicated."

"Tell me about it."

"J..." Hooch sat down rather heavily. Waving three fingers at the barmaid as a drinks order, she hoped that Hermione would take her time.

"If you can't talk to me who can you talk to?" Julie sat at the table facing Hooch. "We've been friends forever and you brought her to meet me for a reason."

"She used to be a passionate, fiery, spirited girl – always willing to help people or stand up for what she believed in. Her friends were both killed and I think that she blamed herself, which is ridiculous of course. That was four and a half years ago. I met her again six or seven months ago; she was not even a shadow of herself. Gradually I persuaded her to spend time with me and she's improved a thousand fold."

"But?"

"But... I think she is in a highly destructive relationship of some kind. Some weekends I visit only to find the door heavily warded, so much so that I cannot even knock. If I visit the next morning her eyes are red from crying and the smell of sex is thick in the air."

A red eyebrow lifted, "Jealous?"

Hooch hesitated, her eyes drifting to the closed door that Hermione was behind. "Yes... but that's not why I am concerned. For days or sometimes weeks afterwards she is distant, as though she's gone backwards by several stages." She exhaled deeply, "While her outward depression is decreasing, I can't help but sense that something deep inside of her is slowly dying."

"Will she talk about it?"

"She shies away from any personal conversation like a scalded cat."

"This... destructive relationship... is she being abused?"

Looking up at her friend, Hooch no longer saw the devil-may-care former Quidditch star, friend and long ago lover but the professional counsellor that Julie now was. She sighed once again, "Not as such... I don't think that she is... Used perhaps, taken advantage of maybe... but not abused."

"Being 'used' for sex is a type of abuse, you know that."

"How can I help her?" The whisper was urgent as Hooch saw the door start to open.

"Continue as you have been doing, try to engage her on a more personal level and find out who it is."

"How?"

"She'll try to avoid the person; their name and anything associated with them. Watch her reactions. And for the love of god 'keep it in your pants'."

* * *

A few weeks later – Hogwarts

Minerva McGonagall completed her paperwork with a sigh. Being the Headmistress was harder than it looked - endless red tape without even the joy of teaching. When a knock interrupted the quiet of her evening the sigh grew heavier. "Enter."

The muggle studies professor walked into the room confidently, piercing blue eyes taking in Minerva's frustration in a single glance. "Good evening."

"Joannae, what can I do for you?"

"It's more a question of what I can do for you Minerva." The willowy blonde moved closer perching on the corner of the large desk. Watching intently green eyes widen as her fingers slid across the elegant hand of the Headmistress and up the slender arm. "I've noticed that you have been rather... tense lately and I thought that perhaps I could help."

"Professor Harper!"

"So formal." She teased, "There's no need to be coy." Confident fingers slid across the soft swell of Minerva's cheek. "I thought that perhaps we could start with dinner, maybe a nice romantic walk and then..."

"Remove your hand Professor!" There was an icy chill in the commanding tones and the blonde lept back as though burnt. Minerva stood up, having shaken off her momentary paralysis watching as the other woman blustered through an apology and tried to open the door. "Stop. Right. There."

"Minerva...I..."

The Headmistress turned to face the fire and took a deep breath. "I am going to say this once and once only. What you just suggested is completely inappropriate, what you did was bordering on harassment and even if I were single, I would not..."

"You're seeing someone? I didn't know."

"Why would you?" Minerva said mostly to herself in an absent, thoughtful way. "How could you?" Her words became quieter as they slipped through a brand new crack in the walls that she had built around her heart.

"I'm sorry, can we just forget that this ever happened?"

"Just go."

* * *

Later that night – The flat

Hermione had moved the sofa closer to the fire and she sat on it, watching photographs and paperwork curl, blacken and then burn in the flames. Tears were running silently down her cheeks and she wasn't sure why she was burning her mementoes. "I can't take this any more." It was a hoarse whisper, a choked statement and she didn't know what she meant by it – all she knew was that this situation had to end before it destroyed her completely.

In a way it was Hooch's fault. The older womans company had made her fully realise what she was missing. Before bumping into the flying instructor she had been numb inside, months would pass without her even talking to another person. Hooch had awoken a part of her that she had almost forgotten existed. Her pain burned anew, with an intensity that she had never known.

"Hermione?"

The young woman spun around so fast that she slid off of the sofa. She hadn't heard Minerva come in to the flat and it had been years since she had heard her name, spoken in that husky Scottish brogue.

"Are you alright?"

Hermione wanted to scream at Minerva, scream that - no she wasn't alright - that everything was completely fucked up and to get out of the flat. But she couldn't, the words wouldn't leave her mouth. She stayed silent, sprawled on the floor looking up at her lover. There was an odd look on the face of the headmistress, something far removed from the implacable mask that she normally wore.

A few steps brought Minerva close enough to hold out a hand to help Hermione up. After a long hesitation the younger woman took it and allowed herself to be pulled onto her feet. The two women stood staring at each other, only their hands were touching but it was enough to set pulses racing and hearts pounding. An instinct older than time itself pulled them together and their lips met.

* * *

Hermione's spine was still arched as her orgasm faded. She collapsed onto the pillows, panting and completely spent. Her limbs were shaking with the force of her climax, she concentrated on stilling them and slowing her breathing. A glance downwards told her that Minerva's body was curled up against hers with her head resting on Hermione's stomach.

Several minutes passed and Minerva felt the familiar urge to leave. For the first time she resisted the desire, her mind drifting back to earlier in the evening and her conversation with Joanne Harper. _"You're seeing someone? I didn't know."_

"_Why would you... How could you?" _She closed her eyes, not really wanting the introspection at that particular time – knowing that she wasn't quite ready for her thoughts to continue on that course but knowing that she didn't want to leave the bed.

The anger and pain that Hermione had been feeling over the past several months started to bubble up inside her once again. She wanted to cry out in rage, wanted to curl up and surrender to her agony. The young woman did none of these things. She slipped out from underneath Minerva's drowsy body and picked up her clothing. Her jeans and shirt were hurriedly pulled on without bothering with underwear. She shoved her bare feet into trainers and grabbed a jacket.

Minerva lay shocked on the bed watching her storm out of the flat, slamming the front door so hard that the wooden frame split. She called out to the young woman but it was too late. Hermione was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: Thank you for the reviews, enjoy the chapter**

* * *

Absent footsteps had brought Hermione to the banks of the river, it had been an extremely familiar haunt for her over the past few months. She leant on the railing looking down into the dark water, not even seeing what was in front of her... all she saw was Minerva's face. Hermione clambered over the iron railing, for a moment precariously balanced high above the water. Slowly she sat on the concrete and let her feet dangle into space.

Soft music travelled to her ears from a nearby pub, it was a familiar song – one that she began to hum along to. Feeling like her heart was breaking all over again.

_It doesn't matter what I want  
It doesn't matter what I need  
It doesn't matter if I cry  
Don't matter if I bleed  
You've been on a road  
Don't know where it goes or where it leads_

She had pretended not to hear Minerva calling out after her. The four syllables of her name were the sweetest thing that she had ever heard and everything that she had wanted. But she knew nothing would ever change, she had finally given up hope and she had to leave.

_It doesn't matter what I want  
It doesn't matter what I need  
If you've made up your mind to go  
I won't beg you to stay  
You've been in a cage  
Throw you to the wind you fly away  
_

Did that mean it was over? That thought kept resonating through Hermione's mind. The last thing she wanted was to loose what she had once had with Minerva but tonight she realised that she had in fact lost that – years before.

_It doesn't matter what I want  
It doesn't matter what I need  
It doesn't matter if I cry  
Doesn't matter if I bleed  
Feel the sting of tears  
Falling on this face you've loved_

_...for years_

Tears were running down her face at the realisation that her Minerva was gone, that the woman in her flat was nothing like the woman she had fallen in love with. She put her head in her hands and sobbed once again, hoping that the action would be cathartic.

* * *

The Flat

Minerva had stared after the young woman for a few minutes before she pulled on her own robes. Quickly she opened the front door, expecting to find Hermione on the other side but the corridor was dark and empty. Walking back into the flat the Headmistress felt as though she had been punched in the stomach.

She sat on the sofa looking down at her hands realising that she could still smell Hermione's essence on her skin. Minerva knew that she was in the wrong, knew that her actions were hardly fair but... She couldn't even finish the thought, didn't dare to finish it.

The desire for a drink suddenly became urgent, emerald eyes flittered around the room – the drinks cabinet was long gone and so she walked into the kitchen. Minerva opened cupboards, it shouldn't have surprised her that things had been moved around in the years since she had last been in this room but it did. There was a part of her that had expected that nothing would change, that her home would always be there – even if she felt that she couldn't live in it, no matter how much she wanted to.

* * *

5am – South London

Hermione was freezing cold, hours of sitting on concrete beside the river had chilled her to the bone. An hour earlier she had started walking around, not daring to go home in case Minerva was still there. She knew despite both her anger and new perspective, that she would be unable to resist the older woman.

Through the early morning mist she saw lights from an all-night cafe and thanked God that she lived in London. She reached a hand into the jacket pocket, feeling a mix of muggle and wizarding change with numb fingers. When she walked through the door a wave of warmth hit her, she took a seat in the booth nearest the door and surreptitiously counted her change.

"Just a mug of tea please." She placed the correct change on the formica table. The waitress took a long look at her, picked up the coins and left to return behind the counter.

The drink when it came was strong, hot and sweet – in other words exactly what she needed. Cold hands were wrapped around the mug, enjoying the heat that seeped into her bloodstream. Unfortunately it did nothing to relieve the emotional chill inside of her.

Hermione knew what she should do but it was far easier said than done. Perhaps what she needed was some perspective, some time to think things over, maybe a new start. Her train of thought was interrupted by the waitress who placed a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her. "You look like you could do with a hot meal."

"I could but I'm sorry, I forgot my wallet. I can't pay for it."

"I didn't ask you to pay for it, now eat."

The woman left before Hermione could thank her. She chuckled before tucking in to the food, it seemed as though lately everyone was mothering her. Maybe her mental state was visible to everyone... except Minerva. The brunette shook her head, why did every single thought that she had, turn to her lover?

_It was long past midnight and Hermione was sat at the kitchen table in the safe house. Her coffee had grown cold at her elbow and she was completely engrossed in a book. _

"_Waiting up for me?" Minerva stood in the doorway, still wearing her outdoor robes. Her voice was sultry, sexy and it made Hermione smirk._

"_Something like that." She waved her wand, reheating the teapot and pouring her... girlfriend a cup of tea._

_Minerva moved closer, "You spoil me... I could get used to that." A hand brushed chestnut curls away from Hermione's face, leaning in and meeting the lips that sought hers._

_Sweet, soft and passionate – nevertheless their kiss broke after a minute. "I was hoping you would."_

"_Hmmmm?"_

"_Get used to me spoiling you." Hermione smiled, "I'm planning on doing it for a very long time." She kissed the side of Minerva's neck._

_The older woman pulled back so that she could look into those pools of chocolate brown that she adored. "I love you." It was the first time that had she said it and there was a tone of wonder in her voice._

_Happy tears welled up in Hermione's eyes, "And I love you. I always have. Nothing could ever change that."_

* * *

The Great Hall – Breakfast

Some members of the Quidditch teams were already in their flying robes, Hooch grinned at them. When she was a student she would be so excited she would sleep in hers the night before a match. She certainly appreciated their enthusiasm. At least Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff played a civilised game, although far less interesting than the other two rival houses.

Popping another piece of bacon into her mouth she turned her attention to her fellow members of staff. Normally Minerva would be in a rather good mood the day of a match but this morning she was quiet and rather pale – if Hooch hadn't known better she would have sworn that the Headmistress had a hangover.

It was at that moment that a large brown owl landed in front of her, drawing curious looks from everyone because the post had long since been delivered. "Hey Apollo." She gave the bird a reward and opened Hermione's letter. The owl hooted softly and flew off.

Minerva meanwhile was looking at the bird curiously, it seemed vaguely familiar to her. Many of the owls that were routine visitors to the school she could recognise – there was a nagging sense that she had seen it somewhere... else. But she couldn't remember where.

_Hooch_

_Sorry I know that you're refereeing today but when you're done can you come over? I really could use some company right now._

_H_

The note was matter of fact but Hooch could sense the mental anguish that lay behind the request. She forgot all about the match and lept to her feet. Hurried steps took her to Minerva's side. "Minerva, I'm sorry... something urgent has come up. I need to go."

"Rolonda, please, I cannot referee your match. There is something I really need to do that has been put off for far too long."

"Minerva, it is important."

The Headmistress paused, her desire to find Hermione warring with her sense of duty. There was no other professor qualified to supervise a Quidditch match except her and they both knew it. Uncharacteristically she swore under her breath, knowing that she was backed into a corner. "Fine, go."

* * *

The door to the flat was ajar and Hooch stepped inside. "Hermione?"

"In here."

Hooch followed the sound of her friends voice, as she walked through the living room she gasped. All of the furniture except a single slightly wonky bookshelf was missing, the carpet had been removed and the walls had been stripped back to the bare plaster. Slowly she walked into the spare room.

"I didn't expect you so soon." Hermione was extremely pale, tired and wan – her eyes were red and bloodshot, her skin blotchy with long hours of crying. Despite that she smiled warmly and stood up to hug Hooch.

"You said that you needed me, so here I am." She let go of Hermione, knowing that the younger woman would only tolerate physical contact for a short time. "Re-decorating?"

"I... decided that I would... make a few changes to my life. My surroundings are more easily controlled than... other things."

Astute yellow eyes looked deeply at Hermione for a long moment, "How can I help?" She wasn't going to ask any additional questions at the moment and the younger woman had her unconditional support.

The brunette gestured to a large pile of shrunken items, "Could you start packing these into a box while I finish shrinking things please."

Hooch nodded and sat on the floor, picking up a doll house sized bed and carefully placed it inside a cardboard wine box. Her sensitive nose got a whiff of a musky scent coming from the still dishevelled sheets and she suddenly guessed what had prompted Hermione's new found urgency.

Almost every piece of furniture from the whole flat had been shrunken.

"You're planning on storing all of this...?"

Chocolate eyes darkened with pain, "I'm not ready to throw it away or Trans... change it into something else yet."

A few minutes passed in silence. Something began to niggle at the back of Hooch's mind and she remembered what Julie had said, _"She'll try to avoid the person; their name and anything associated with them. Watch her reactions." _With one of the quick intuitive flashes that she was known for Hooch added up the things that caused a reaction in the younger woman.

Hogwarts...

The Order of the Phoenix...

Transfiguration...

She gasped and dropped a tiny wooden bookshelf.

"Hooch?"

"Just a splinter."

"Oh."

Hooch continued with her task with hands that were shaking. Minerva McGonagall. Minerva... bloody... McGonagall. Her mind was racing, the woman that she knew would never treat Hermione this way. Or would she? No one could shut their emotions off like the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"Ok, now... fancy shopping for new stuff?"

Hooch plastered her trademark smirk onto her shocked face, "Only if you throw in lunch."

"Sure."

* * *

Hooch waved her wand underneath the table, whispering a silencing charm. "I've seen you do more spellwork today than I have in... well the last several months." She toyed with her wineglass knowing that how Hermione responded would indicate how the whole conversation would go.

"Casting spells... made me think about things that I didn't want to. I got into the habit of not using my wand." The chocolate eyes that looked up from the table were slightly hesitant, wary. "And like I said, today I feel like making a few changes."

"Hermione... I know that we have an unspoken arrangement, whereby I don't ask about what's going on...I do have a fairly good idea what is bothering you... I'm not asking now but if you want to talk about it – I'm here."

The younger woman looked at her for a long, long moment. "I know but I'm not ready to talk about it."

Hooch nodded, picking up the menu and pretending to read it – she was giving the younger woman time to compose herself. Every fibre of her being was cursing her boss, for throwing away something as valuable as Hermione and for hurting her so badly. After a few minutes they began to chat about their shopping trip.

They had gone into a number of muggle shops buying furniture and secretly making it lighter before pretending to carry it to a vehicle. Hermione was giggling as she recalled them carrying a king sized bed around a corner, trying to outrun the concerned salesman so that they could shrink it. Hooch patted the shoulder bag on the chair next to her. "Do we have everything?"

"I just want to buy some new sheets and carpets, and then we're done."

"Need help with the decorating?"

"Let me guess... I have to buy you dinner too?"

"I don't have any muggle money, I'm afraid." By now Hooch knew and partially understood Hermione's total withdrawal from the wizarding world. There was no question of them shopping or eating in an environment where they might meet someone she knew. At least she now seemed at ease in the muggle world.

"Maybe once we get everything straightened out, we could order a takeaway and watch a movie or something."

Hooch grinned, "Sounds like a plan. Hagrid is looking after Havoc, so I can stay out as late as I want."

Hermione chuckled at her friend, "So it's true, having a dog is like having a child."

"Yeah, except you can't walk them on a leash and people frown when you throw them in lakes."

* * *

Early evening – The flat

The interior of the flat had changed beyond recognition. Hooch wryly thought that had been exactly what Hermione had intended, the young womans tastes ran to the classical and the furnishings had also reflected Minerva's love of traditional, understated elegance. The new items that she had bought were the complete opposite of what had been there before.

The spare room had been enlarged, making the living room smaller – the space had been painted in muted, neutral colours. The carpet had been replaced with hardwood flooring and rugs. The furniture was mainly glass and chrome, very modern – very muggle. The 'retro' sofa had been replaced with a modern corner one. The only remnants of the old room was the bookshelf that Minerva had assembled, it looked completely out of place. Hooch realised the significance but didn't understand exactly why Hermione had kept that particular memento.

She walked over to the door and answered the knock of the delivery driver, handing him paper muggle money that she didn't completely understand. "Hermione, dinner's here." She walked under the arch into the kitchen and placed the bag on the glass topped bistro table. Shiny gloss and opaque glass cabinets had replaced the older wooden ones. Every appliance was hidden behind fake doors – it was aseptic, totally devoid of personality.

Hermione didn't answer the call and once Hooch had laid the table she went in search of the younger woman. Very concerned about her mental state; the day had been marked by periods of relieved joy interspersed with severe depression – the flying instructor didn't like leaving her alone for too long until she had purged the mood swings from her system.

The spare room had been converted into an office and library. Glass shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling and a sofa bed with an end table was in the middle of the room. A huge desk, complete with computer and storage was in front of a large window. Hermione was sitting on the floor, head in her hands crying.

"Aw, Hermione..." Hooch took the younger witch into her arms, hugging her tightly. "You've done really well today."

"It's... only on the surface though... I'm not strong enough to change what really matters." She sniffed, rubbing at her face violently, "I can't even change the bloody locks."

"Give yourself a break. You just started this process this morning, it takes a long time to heal." She helped Hermione up, "Come and have dinner with me. I ordered your favourite Chinese meal."

"With the crispy duck?"

"Of course." She grinned, "Although I think I may have given the delivery elf too much money."

"He's just an ugly teenager on a scooter, not an elf. What did you give him?"

"The red piece of paper."

Hermione rolled her eyes, more amused than annoyed. "You gave him about twice what he needed."

"Oops, sorry."

The young woman looked at Hooch for a long moment as they sat down, "Thank you."

"For wasting your money?"

"You know what for."

"Tell me."

"You saved my life. I think if you hadn't have stumbled out of the woods that day... I wouldn't be here now."

"You're a very special woman Hermione, it's an honour to consider you my friend. I..." She minutely shook her head, knowing that now was not the right time to confess her feelings, "You have nothing to thank me for." Hermione's oblique admission had shocked her to the core, Hooch could no longer imagine life without the younger witch in it. For the first time she fully understood the real meaning of homicidal rage.

* * *

Meanwhile at Hogwarts

The day had passed slowly for Minerva, after refereeing the Quidditch match she had been called into a meeting with a concerned parent. By the time that she had finished that, it had been almost time for dinner.

Ever since Hermione had stormed out of the flat the previous evening, Minerva had been haunted by the pained, distraught and desperate look that she had seen in chocolate eyes. That image crept up at the worst times, making her feel as though an invisible hand had grabbed her heart and squeezed.

Shortly before dinner she had been sitting at her desk, allowing the memory to replay in her mind without trying to repress it. Minerva had begun to hyperventilate, tears welling up in her eyes, the pain in her chest becoming unbearable. She ended up kneeling on the bathroom, vomiting into the toilet.

"Minerva is everything alright?" Filius leaned closer. The Headmistress looked terrible, even worse than she had at breakfast. As her deputy he had to ask, although he doubted that she would tell him.

She pushed her uneaten food around with her fork for a moment before replying, "I have... made a huge mistake."

"What are you going to do in order to fix it?"

Another pause, "I am not sure that it can be fixed, I think it might be too late for that."

"Don't give up hope."

* * *

The Flat

Hermione lay back against the pillows laughing at the television. She reached out with her left hand and grabbed some popcorn from the bowl between her and Hooch.

"This bed is really cool." Hooch said from the other side.

"Yep." Hermione cast her eye over the footboard from which a huge flat screen protruded.

They were watching a comedy but Hooch couldn't have named it if asked – she was more aware of the younger woman. During the afternoon and early evening they had pretty much finished redecorating the flat, whatever was left could wait for tomorrow. Hermione had suggested that they finish the evening with a relaxing activity. The older woman had a theory that the movie was just an excuse because the younger witch didn't want to be alone. Not that Hooch was complaining.

The volume on the TV was set rather high and so neither witch heard the front door open. They never heard heels clicking on the wooden floor in the living room heading in their direction. The door swung open and three witches gasped in unison.

Standing, staring at them in a combination of horror and anger was Minerva McGonagall.

* * *

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: The song in the last chapter was 'It doesn't matter' by Alison Krauss.  
Off to the states to see my gal in 8 days ;) not sure if you'll get another chapter first though. **

* * *

For a long frozen moment in time there was not a sound in the flat. None of the women were even breathing. Emerald eyes filled with what could only be described as agony, stared at Hermione. Pain turned to rage as Minerva turned to face Hooch. "What. In. The. Hell. Are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question, haven't you caused enough damage?"

At the same moment both women drew their wands, Hooch lept to her feet with surprising agility and faced off Minerva.

"Stop it." Hermione's voice was so weak that neither combatant noticed her.

"I will ask you again, what are you doing here - in bed with MY woman?"

"Your woman?" Hooch roared, "That's you all over isn't it? She is not your woman, you turn up occasionally, shag her and go back to Hogwarts. Your woman..." She practically spat the words out in disgust, "She is no one's property!"

Minerva took a step closer, eyes dilated with anger. Sparks were flaring from the end of her wand and the pictures on the walls began to shake. Hooch matched the motion, her spiky hair sticking straight up with crackling energy. "You have not the slightest comprehension of what is between Hermione and I."

"I don't? Yet again you have completely underestimated me. I **comprehend **that you had some kind of cloak and dagger affair, and then you decided that you could use her to satisfy yourself..."

"You know nothing."

Hooch was closer to her employer now, her wand pressed against the smooth skin of Minerva's throat – feeling the other womans wand digging into her belly. "You come here, fuck her and leave. The next morning she cries her eyes out. And over the years your treatment of her drove Hermione to the brink of suicide... What else do you think that you can tell me?"

Minerva's eyes flashed towards Hermione, trying to interrogate chocolate eyes to judge the veracity of Hooch's words. The young witch lowered her head, ashamed to be seen so weak. The flying instructor continued, "You should just go."

"No! Whatever the hell you think, this is my home and Hermione is my..."

"Your what? You can't even say it can you?" The wand dug further into Minerva's skin, the sparks scorching her robes. "What is she to you? You have been treating her as your own personal whore!"

Minerva stumbled backwards, the harsh words more forceful than a physical blow ever could be. The hand holding her wand trembled and fell, the weapon dangling harmlessly at her side. Another step backwards caused her to collapse against the doorframe. Her free hand flew up to cover her mouth in shock as the truth in Hooch's words hit her with the force of a double decker bus. Her eyes locked onto Hermione.

"You know I'm right don't you? You are a complete arsehole. Do you have any idea what you've done? All you're going to do is hurt her again and I'm not going to sit around to watch it. She's an amazing woman and..."

Minerva was still silently staring at Hermione and hadn't moved in the past few moments. The young brunette looked up at her friend as Hooch abruptly paused in her rant. When their eyes met briefly the flying instructor continued but this time speaking to Hermione.

"And I'd be a whole lot better for you than she ever will... Now ain't the time but what the hell? I love you Hermione and I would never hurt you."

Hermione's brief look told Hooch everything that she needed to know, that the young woman was still – despite everything – madly in love with Minerva. She swallowed hard, trying to dull the stab of pain that she felt. "You threw away her love, treated her like a whore... and in spite of it, she still loves you – God knows why. But when you hurt her again and you will hurt her... I'll be around to pick up the pieces."

She walked over to where Minerva was mutely standing and pressed her wand against the elegant throat, "Hurt her again and I'll kill you." She lowered it, shooting another glance at Hermione before turning back to the ebony haired witch and her voice turned mocking, "Don't forget to leave a few galleons on the mantle when you're finished."

Hooch walked out of the bedroom and out of the flat slamming the door behind her. There was a minute part of her that was praying Hermione would follow but the larger part knew that it was not going to happen.

Chocolate eyes rose to stare at Minerva, who was staring back. The older womans legs collapsed and she slid down the wall. Her wand fell to the floor with a clatter and she brought her other hand up to cover her face as she began to cry. It was more than simple tears, she was sobbing from the depths of her soul, every repressed emotion from the last several years pouring out.

* * *

After several minutes listening to the outpouring of emotion from the woman she loved, Hermione couldn't stop herself from getting off of the bed. With a wave of her hand she banished the bowl of popcorn, turned off the television which retracted into the footboard and straightened the sheets. "Minerva?"

The only response from the older woman was the weeping increasing in intensity. Slowly, almost warily Hermione walked across the room and knelt by Minerva. She reached out a hand and gingerly touched a trembling shoulder. The Headmistress began to rock back and forth, wailing now.

Whatever Hermione tried got no response, Minerva was almost catatonic. Using a combination of muscle power and magic the young woman lifted her lover into her arms. She carried the animagus over to the bed and sat down once again.

For a long time Hermione stroked ebony hair silently, tightly holding the shaking woman. Minerva continued to sob inconsolably; through her tears she kept whispering the same two phrases brokenly over and over again. "I'm sorry... I love you!"

The younger woman began to surrender to her own tears and leaned back against the headboard, lifting her legs up onto the bed. She held Minerva to her chest and cried harder when the older witch's face burrowed into her neck, still whispering fervent apologies against her skin.

It took hours for Minerva's crying to subside and when it stopped she whispered, "I'm sorry," once again in a voice roughened by tears. She still rested her face against the huge wet patch on Hermione's shirt, arms around the younger woman – avoiding raising her head fearing to make eye contact.

When the older witch began to sniffle and rub at her face, Hermione wordlessly summoned a damp washcloth from the bathroom and caught it as it flew into her hand. She placed a finger on Minerva's chin and raised her head – gently but firmly ignoring the resistance she met. Tenderly she wiped the dried tears, dirt and snot from the blotchy skin, holding on when the Headmistress tried to hide her face.

"You don't have to be ashamed of crying."

Minerva paused for a moment, "That is not what I am ashamed of."

Hermione accepted the statement at face value, too tired from lack of sleep and too emotionally drained to even start untangling the remaining frayed threads of their relationship. Reluctantly Minerva slid onto the mattress beside the younger woman, meeting her eyes voluntarily now. "May I... spend the night? I could sleep on the sofa if you prefer."

The young witch looked at Minerva for a long time before answering. "Stay here... with me."

Obediently, with joy coursing through her veins the animagus slid the covers aside, kicked off her shoes and slowly got into bed – still fully dressed. Hermione followed suit, moving hesitantly and sighed when she rested her head on the pillow. Another wave of her hand turned the lights off.

* * *

An hour later Hermione was still staring up at the ceiling. Dim light filtered through the curtains from the streetlights outside allowing her to see the imperfections in the plaster. The sound of their breathing was too loud in the silence. "Minerva are you awake?"

"Yes."

Another long period of silence followed the exchange. Hermione sighed, rubbing her face. She rolled onto her side away from Minerva. When the young woman spoke her voice was hesitant, "Hold me."

The older witch rolled over, wrapping one arm around Hermione's waist. She moulded her body to fit flush against the young womans back. They both exhaled in a deep sigh and Minerva pressed her face against the smooth skin on the back of Hermione's neck. It was only a few moments before the brunette felt hot tears bathing the skin at her nape.

_Minerva walked back from the kitchen carrying a tray of snacks. Hermione looked up from where she was lying on the mattress and giggled. "Who would have expected that the great Minerva McGonagall would walk around wearing nothing but a bedsheet?"_

"_Well it is not as though we have unpacked clean clothing. And I may be wrong but I believe you enjoyed watching me."_

"_You aren't wrong." Hermione patted the mattress and Minerva sat down, she leaned in and passionately kissed the older woman, who placed the tray on a cardboard box before grabbing her lover and kissing her once again._

"_I am enjoying our new living accommodations."_

"_Me too." Hermione reached out and grabbed some food. In the day and a half since they had moved in they had not eaten a proper meal or even unpacked, more concerned with making love and enjoying their new found freedom. It seemed at that moment as though they had the whole world in front of them._

* * *

It was mid morning when Hermione woke up, the previous night without rest and a late night had made her sleep more deeply than normal. She was very conscious of the familiar (and much missed) feeling of having Minerva pressed against her back. For a long moment she couldn't tell if it was a dream, a hallucination or... reality.

Slowly the events of the previous few days came back to her. There had been so much pain for both of them... and Hooch. She had to wonder if it was really worth putting themselves through this agony, for the shot at a reconciliation that might not even be possible.

"'Mione?"

Hermione closed her eyes against the rush of nostalgia the nickname prompted and the ensuing stab of pain. "Morning." She shifted her weight slightly, feeling Minerva move to accommodate her and she rolled onto her back. Chocolate eyes devoured the sight of her lover, before noticing something odd – the older woman was jittery and looked extremely uncomfortable. "What's wrong?"

"I need to..." When Minerva paused, Hermione's heart sank expecting another hasty exit by the ebony haired witch. "Use the loo."

"Oh... Well... Um... Proceed." Incredulously she watched as Minerva lept off of the bed, almost fast enough to have been in her animagus form and ran into the ensuite. Hermione lay on the bed watching the door, her mind was still in turmoil and the odd behaviour of the older witch was not helping.

A few minutes passed before the sheepish looking woman walked back into the room. "What was that about Minerva?" The witch in question blushed and sat on the bed next to Hermione, nervously brushing lint from her robes.

"I... I did not want you to wake up and find me gone."

"...Thank you."

Hesitantly Minerva reached out and touched Hermione's hand, slowly grasping it in hers. They stared wordlessly at each other while time stood still. Eventually they were interrupted by rumbling stomachs. "Breakfast..?"

Hermione turned her face up into the spray, feeling the water cascade over her body – one advantage of magic was a limitless supply of hot water and she was certainly taking advantage of it this morning. Truthfully she was hiding from Minerva, she really had no idea what to say to the older woman – how could you compress years of unaddressed conflict into a conversation?

* * *

She had been in the shower for ages and it was long past the time when she should have gone to speak to Minerva. Sighing, Hermione shut the water off and stepped out onto a towel, wrapping another around her body. A spell dried her hair and she went back into the bedroom.

A familiar smell assailed her nostrils, the delicious aroma of frying bacon. It was enough to allow her to shake off the strange lethargy that had overtaken her and she quickly dressed before walking into the kitchen in search of Minerva.

The older witch was standing in front of the stove cooking in the muggle fashion – a skill that Hermione had taught her several years previously and one that she excelled at. "That smells wonderful."

"Thank you, I hope that it tastes as good as it smells."

Hermione sighed, sick of the polite small talk but didn't know how to stop them from tip-toeing around each other. "Would you like a hand?"

Minerva's initial thought was to say no, she liked doing things herself but that had been the 'old Minerva' and so she replied, "How do you fancy setting the table?"

"Sure." Hermione was glad to have something to occupy her hands, it stopped her from standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. Once she had laid the table she poured them both a coffee and sat down, staring at her napkin. Minerva placed a huge plate of food in front of her and sat down to a much smaller breakfast of her own.

Hermione sighed again, "We're just tiptoeing around each other."

"I know. Everything I want to say starts with, 'Sorry'."

"Thank you for saying it but... the longer you go on apologising the harder it will be to move on from this." Her voice was a little flat as she stated the obvious but dramatically rose in pitch as she continued, "If you want to move on that is...?"

Minerva stopped toying with her food, dropped her fork and stared at the younger woman. "Of course I... I would not be here if I did not want..."

"Want what? It's been made abundantly clear that you **want **me! But that isn't enough. Not any more!"

"I want... I want what we lost four years ago... I want us to be together... I want a chance at the future we should have had."

Tears were running down Hermione's face silently as she listened to Minerva's passionate voice. There was no doubting the sincerity in the older womans words or the tenderness of the arms that wrapped around her in a tight hug.

"I know that I have a lot to make up to you and even more to prove. I want to try, please Hermione... give me another chance." Tears flowed over her own cheeks, as she waited without even breathing – dreading the rejection that was sure to come.

The young woman bit her lip hard, overjoyed at the request but dreading the inevitable heartache that would come when Minerva changed her mind. "I couldn't bear it if you broke my heart all over again..."

It wasn't a rejection and the Headmistress knew it but the sentence made her tears fall faster as she realised once again how badly she had hurt the young woman. "Hermione..." She brushed the back of her hand over a soft cheek, tenderly drying the tears that she had caused. "I promise you that this time things will be different." She paused looking into the incredulous chocolate eyes that rose to meet hers, "That is not a line by the way." Minerva caressed chestnut curls and smiled when she heard a small hesitant laugh leave perfect lips.

"I mean it 'Mione. Things will be different. No more late night visits. No more hiding how we feel about each other from the rest of the world. A whole new start."

The young woman pressed her face into Minerva's collarbone, hiding her tears. "Can we start again?"

"I believe so and I want to try. Sweetheart please..."

Minerva's tone was pleading, just shy of begging and it demonstrated how serious she was. There was nothing Hermione could do but to agree. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"I want to try too." She watched as Minerva smiled through her tears, "But slowly. We can't just pick up where we left off." Both women were sobbing once again and it was the turn of the older witch to lift Hermione into her arms. A whispered incantation turned the dining chair into a comfortable sofa and they clung to each other, needing a lifeline like never before.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: Thank you all for the reviews, I understand the concerns that some of you have about Hermione forgiving Minerva's actions. I am not just going to wave a wand and make it all better... they have to work through things gradually and reconciliation will take time. Hence this chapter is more talking than action.**

* * *

Having toyed with her breakfast rather than eating it Hermione was ravenous at lunch. She surreptitiously watched as Minerva quizzed the waiter about the origin of the 'Scottish Salmon', it was strange to watch – they had hardly ever gone out to eat when they had been together and when they had it was abroad in the muggle world. Obviously true to her word Minerva no longer cared about who saw them together.

They were dining at The Rose, a popular restaurant close to Diagon Alley. When they walked in Hermione spotted Minerva nod at a few patrons, in a way that acknowledged them but did not encourage conversation. A husky voice calling her name drew her attention back to the present, "I'll have the Mushroom Stroganoff."

The man nodded and discretely withdrew. "What were you thinking about?"

"You." A raised eyebrow was her response. "I was thinking about the 'Professor McGonagall' persona."

"Hermione..." Minerva reached across the table and squeezed the younger womans hand, ignoring the shocked looks coming towards them from various point in the room. "You know that is mostly an act."

"I know but... don't shut me out again, don't turn off your feelings."

The squeeze turned into a caress, "I will not."

Hermione turned her hand over; clasping Minerva's in her own, staring deeply into the emerald eyes that had haunted her dreams. "Why did you develop that as a defence mechanism? Why when you are hurting or scared, do you shut off and adopt that persona?"

The older witch closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I will tell you, I promise but not here..." Hermione could see that the colour had drained from her face and that she looked stricken.

"Ok."

Minerva shook her head, "I will explain but it is a long, hard story – I can either shut off my feelings and explain or break down... Let me tell you when we get back to the flat."

"It's alright I understand." More awkward silence followed, during which Minerva kept shooting glances at her companion, until Hermione cast a silencing charm around the table. "Just say whatever you want to..."

There was a pause before a quiet whisper broke the stillness, "Hooch?"

"What about her?"

"Are you... Planning on seeing her again?"

Hermione took a sip of her drink, using the moment to think – she was at a crossroads, if she replied honestly it would hurt Minerva but if she submitted to the older woman, she would be setting a precedent that she couldn't afford. "Actually yes I am, later today."

"Oh."

"I need to check that she is alright after... what happened last night. She means a great deal to me and I owe her that much."

Minerva nodded but said nothing.

The waiter interrupted them by bringing their meals, the older woman ignored him – uncharacteristically ignoring courteously as she looked at the tablecloth. This time Hermione decided to remain silent until Minerva spoke again.

"I... Do... Do you want me to be in the flat when you get back?"

"Yesterday I said that I wanted you to stay and this morning I said that I wanted to try. Nothing has changed since then."

Finally emerald eyes lifted from the tablecloth, they were bright with tears and when Minerva spoke her voice was trembling, "I did not want to assume... I am... unsure of what she is to you."

"Minerva... she is my friend. Hooch was there for me when no one else was. She literally saved my life."

"She is in love with you." There was an odd mixture of pain and resentment in the cultured voice.

"So? Don't you dare think that I am that fickle! If I wasn't completely AND irrevocably in love with you – I would never have allowed you..." Hermione stopped and shook her head, "I don't think about Hooch that way and she knows where my heart lies."

"I am truly sorry Hermione, I have no right to be jealous – not after the way that I have treated you. I would understand if you wanted her, I wouldn't like it but..."

Hermione's nostrils flared in anger, "Minerva stop! If we want to have a chance at working through this... you are going to have to give me space and you are going to have to trust me. I am not going back to sitting in a dark room all alone, thinking about slitting my wrists while hoping that you'll deign to turn up!"

The older woman nodded, more than a little hurt and taken aback by the tone in Hermione's voice. She had grown so used to the broken down submissive young woman that she had created – that the fire she now saw took her completely by surprise. She had no idea how to react or how to deal with it. Her hands trembled as she cut her salmon, the knife scraping the plate loudly and it took her several minutes to reply.

"What the hell is wrong with me? How could I have done that to you?"

"Minerva..."

The older womans words came out in a rush, her voice breaking and cracking as she tried to hold back her tears. "Do not try and tell me it is ok Hermione, because it is anything but! I should have said that I was wrong that first night, I should have told you that I could not live without you. Instead I was too blinded by pride and guilt to admit that I had been wrong to walk out but I couldn't break the habit of a lifetime. Reticence and the British stiff upper lip be damned, I could have been truthful, I should have been willing to admit my vulnerabilities. It wasn't just about the sex, I needed you, needed to be close to you, so that I could imagine if only for a moment that..."

When Minerva broke down into tears in a public place Hermione put her intense curiosity and 'need to know' aside and did the only thing that she could think of to save the older witches reputation - she reached across the table, grabbed a shaking hand and apparated them away.

* * *

Later that afternoon

Hermione rapped a little harder on the front door with her knuckles, hearing Havoc bark loudly in response to her repeated summons. Several minutes later Julie came to answer it, the two women stared at each other for a moment in silence. "Come on in Hermione."

The brunette witch walked into the familiar living room and bent over to pet the dog. She kept half an eye on the redhead as the older woman went to the base of the stairs and called, "Hooch... Hooch you have a visitor."

An indistinct grunt was the only response and Julie smiled as she turned back to face Hermione. The younger woman met a gaze which looked to be accusing but was in fact inquisitive. "I never led her on or at least I never meant to. Honestly."

"I know you didn't and she knows that too."

A wry smile crossed Hermione's face, "She'll blame Minerva."

"Yes, she will." The redhead tightened the sash on the dressing gown she was wearing but not before the younger woman caught a glimpse of a bare breast peeking through the gap in the silk. "Coffee?"

"Please." Hermione followed the other witch into the kitchen, intrigued by the calm serenity of the woman Hooch had once called trouble.

"Can I ask you a rather personal question?"

"Um... Sure."

"If... Minerva had not come back, would you have broken it off with her?"

The brunette took a deep breath, "I've been asking myself the same question and I honestly don't know. I like to think that I would have grown a backbone but I..." Her words trailed off.

"Hermione, please don't feel that I am butting into your personal life but... you are aware of what I do for a living..?"

"Yes."

"If you feel that you need to talk to someone, about anything, even just to get it off of your chest... I'd like you to feel as though you can come and see me. After Hooch's admission last night, you won't see her as a... an unbiased confidante and I am offering to be a replacement."

"You're supposed to be her friend, I hurt her and you're offering to help me?"

"Hermione, I'll always be there for her but I count you as a friend too and I want to help you."

The young woman took the proffered hot drink and took a calming sip, "I'll think about it."

"Fair enough."

A thud sounded from upstairs that was obviously someone getting out of bed and Hermione muttered an apology before returning to the living room. The coffee table was strewn with beer cans, a pizza box and two empty firewhisky bottles. With another smile the brunette brushed dog hair from the sofa cushions and sat down.

Hooch entered the room somewhat unsteadily, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes before scratching her backside absently. The flying instructor was dressed in boxer shorts and a sleeveless singlet top. The normally spiky hair was flat on one side and sticking up at all angles on the other, she had dark circles under her eyes and looked just as tired as Julie.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Julie walked into the room, punched Hooch lightly on the shoulder before handing her a strong black coffee. "I'm going to grab a shower." The redhead shot them both a concerned glance before leaving them alone.

"I had no idea that she would be there last night."

"Or you would have sent me home before dark again?" The resentment in Hooch's voice was clear. "Sorry that was out of line."

Hermione shook her head, "I don't know what I would have done."

"I made a fool out of myself didn't I?"

"No, you stood up for me like no one ever has. I mean... damn... you pulled your wand on the most powerful witch in Britain."

"She's overrated." Petulance showed in both her words and voice. Hooch flexed her wand hand, wishing that she had acted on her impulses the previous evening and hexed her boss into the next millennium. "I meant confessing my undying love for you, that was foolish."

Hermione watched as the slender woman walked over to the window watching her dog run around the garden. It was clear from the way her back shook, that she was crying. The young witch followed her and turned Hooch around. "It wasn't foolish. Never be ashamed of loving."

She watched tears run freely from eyes that had turned amber with sadness. "Aww Hooch." Hermione ran the backs of her fingers across a wet cheek, tenderly looking at her friend, stroking the soft skin. She leant in brushing her lips against the place she had touched, "It would be so easy to love you."

Rolonda Hooch felt her heart stop at the whispered words. "But you love her."

"Yes. I've always loved her and I think that I always will."

The flying instructor pushed Hermione gently away, all too aware of their proximity. "Tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you can still love her after everything that has happened? Why you got into that situation in the first place? And why are you here?"

Hermione smiled, "The third one is easy, I'm here because you're my friend and I care about you." She walked back to where she had left her drink and sat down. "The other two..."

Hooch collapsed into the sofa cushions, holding her pounding head in both hands – feeling the hangover again now that Hermione was not close to her. "If you want me to understand this whole... thing, you are going to have to be open with me."

"It was after the battle, Hogwarts was a wreck but Voldemort was dead. Things should have gotten better after that, people were throwing parties but the attacks on muggles continued and got worse. You were out of the country as I recall and most of the order moved into a series of safehouses. Minerva and I started spending time together, first on missions and then in the library and so on."

"Yeah, go on."

"I'd always been impressed by her and towards the end of my sixth year, I noticed how attractive she was but I'd ignored it. Those feelings kept coming back and getting more intense as time went on, I had no idea that she felt the same way. One evening towards the end of the war we were just talking and I don't know how it came about but we blurted out how we felt."

Hermione chuckled at the awkward memory and then told Hooch about the conversation that Minerva had initiated the following day, when they had first kissed on the hillside. "That kiss... It felt like coming home, like everything I had ever wanted had come true in a single moment. I can still remember the smell of the heather, the sounds of the birds, and the feel of the breeze on my skin – every millisecond burned into my mind."

Even the jealous flying instructor had to admit that it sounded incredible. She listened as Hermione described the first month of their relationship; the stolen moments that they managed to grab together, how exciting yet tender that it had been.

"The insurance money from my parents' deaths and the sale of my house meant that I could buy the flat outright. It was too soon but it didn't feel that way... I asked Minerva to move in with me."

"You what?" To Hooch the idea of Headmistress McGonagall leaving Hogwarts to live elsewhere was unthinkable and yet when she remembered the first school term after the war, she recalled Minerva spending her off weekends out and missing meals in the Great Hall.

"Is it so hard to believe? We were happy together. Picked out the furniture, doing most of the shopping in muggle London or in Europe to avoid being seen. The only problem that we had was the Death Eater threat."

"You and Minerva looked close at... the funeral."

"That was the last time that we truly were... and even then cracks were appearing. When Harry and Ginny died we were together, making love... It was guilt that tore us apart. I... I had been going to their house most evenings. That night Minerva... she came home unexpectedly and I couldn't help it..." Hermione's words faltered and stopped as she relived the horror of the next mornings discovery in her head.

"You couldn't help what?"

"I...I... kissed her and started to unbut... I couldn't help my reaction to her presence. Harry and Ginny died because I wasn't there to protect them."

"No they didn't. Reports indicated that twenty Death Eaters surrounded them and killed them. If you had been there you would have been dead, just like they are."

Hermione shook her head, clearly anguished. "Minerva felt guilty too! That morning we had been going to tell Harry and Ginny that we were together, finally the big reveal and... and... we found the door unlocked... and they were..."

"Hermione."

"The guilt of knowing what we were doing when they were murdered tore us apart. We couldn't touch without the memory... I brought it up the day of the funeral... That was why Minerva left... If I hadn't said anything maybe she wouldn't have left. When she came back that first time, I saw her locking her heart behind an iron wall... I saw it and I let her do it. I let her come back time and time again, every time she built that wall up higher and higher and I did nothing... It almost destroyed me, it almost destroyed what was left of my feelings for her... until you came along..."

Hermione was crying and trembling, bringing her hands up to cup her face. "Two nights ago I the courage to get up out of the bed after we... and it changed everything... Last night after you left I saw something of the Minerva I knew in her... and I..."

"You forgave her."

"No, not yet, not even close but I still love her..."

"And?" Hoochs bottom lip trembled as she waited for the 'final nail in the coffin'.

"And she asked for another chance."

"What did you say?" Out of the corner of her eye she saw Julie lingering by the doorframe, drawn by the sound of sobbing.

"I said yes. There was nothing else I could say."

"What if she hurts you again?"

"I have to take that risk and hope against hope that it works this time."

"Just remember not to take any shit from her ok? And owl me if you need me."

Hermione vigorously rubbed the tears from her face in a gesture that had become extremely familiar to her over the past few days. The skin under her eyes was getting dry and sore from the friction but she had more to worry about. "Are we still friends?" Her eyes were bright with hope and unshed tears.

"...Yeah, we are."

"I am sorry Hooch."

"Unrequited love is a bitch but I'll live, I just want to make sure that you're ok."

The younger woman mustered a smile, "You'll make someone very lucky one day."

"Mmmmm."

"Talking about 'lucky' what did you two get up to last night?"

Incredibly Hooch blushed. "Uh... well..."

"I got asked for a pity shag." They both jumped as a newly dressed Julie walked into the room.

Hermione smirked, on slightly more comfortable ground now. "Liquor fuelled?"

"Pretty much."

Hooch remained silent, watching the two women banter.

"So what's the story with you two?"

Julie grinned, "We were friends, then we dated for awhile. I got a place on a team over in Asia and we just drifted apart. Ever since then one or other of us has been involved with someone, so we're just friends."

"With benefits it seems."

"No!" Hooch finally spoke up, not wanting Hermione to think badly of her. "That was the first time that we... I just needed to be with someone I cared about."

Julie reached out and ruffled the messy hair, "Anytime. You know I love you, ya silly cow."

"Jules?"

"Yes Hermione?"

"Just ask her out on a date and be done with it." She smiled again, glad to be focussing on something other than her own problems. Watching as the counsellor gently teased her friend out of her melancholy state, wondering if they would get together and give her one less thing to feel guilty about.

* * *

The Flat

Minerva had given up on pacing, all it had done was agitate her further and it would not make Hermione come home sooner. The odd, uncomfortably modern furniture did not allow her to rest either. She had made the bed and tidied their breakfast dishes, taking her time over the process – she didn't want to think about where Hermione was or what that infamous flirt Rolonda Hooch was doing to try and win her woman from her.

Thinking about changing the sheets took Minerva to the cupboard in the spare room and in doing so she accidently knocked over a box, the contents of which spilled onto the floor. When she bent down to pick them up she burst into tears as she realised what Hermione had done to their furniture.

When Hermione came home she found the older woman sitting on the floor, cradling a tiny sofa against her heart – sobbing in distress. She walked over and placed a hand on the top of an ebony head which only made Minerva cry harder. The younger woman knelt down and drew the wailing witch into her arms.

Untold time passed as they clung to each other on the uncomfortable floor. Eventually Minerva's tears faded into sniffles and Hermione smiled gently at her. "You know what they say..." Curious emerald eyes looked up, meeting warm chocolate. "There's no use crying over spilt miniature furniture."

Despite herself Minerva laughed.

"That's better." Hermione muttered and wiped the tears from alabaster cheeks with what was once a bed sheet – now resized into a handkerchief.

"I highly doubt that anyone says that."

"So do I but it made you laugh." The young woman stood and offered Minerva her hand, "Let's go, it's bloody freezing in here."

"Where to?"

"The kitchen, I'm going to pour you a glass of wine and cook us some dinner."

* * *

Minerva allowed herself to be led across the flat and into the kitchen, Hermione squeezed her hand and pulled out a chair for the older woman, who suddenly seemed vulnerable and lost. Emerald eyes glanced up forlornly as a glass of ruby red wine was placed in front of her. The younger witch moved away with her own glass and pulled a chopping board from the cupboard, knowing that Minerva would be more willing to talk if she wasn't being watched.

Nimble fingers opened a packet of beef steak and Hermione began to methodically slice it into cubes, tossing them into a pan on the hob. She had poured wine into the pan and was slicing onions when Minerva finally spoke.

"I always swore that I would not be one of those people who blame their bad behaviour on a poor upbringing." The older woman took a sip of her drink, looking at Hermione's back – knowing that the other witch was listening intently but giving her the privacy that she needed. "The reason that I never told you about my parents was because... I did not want you to think badly of me."

"Why would I think badly of you because of something your parents did?"

"What they did and who they were... Because most people would."

Hermione tipped the chopping board into the pan and thoughtfully spoke, "I'm not most people."

"Deep down I know that but it is hard to shake off the habit of a lifetime." There was a poignant pause before Minerva continued. "It is not well known in Britain but my parents were strong supporters of Grindlewald. They were the worst kind of pure-bloods; those who believe that muggles are little better than vermin and that muggle-born witches and wizards are an abomination."

Minerva paused waiting for a response but there was nothing and so she glanced up. Hermione stood motionless at the counter, somewhat shocked at the revelation about her parents but she gasped as something else occurred to her. Had Minerva treated her like she didn't matter because of her blood status? "And what do you think?"

The older witch heard the cracked note in Hermione's voice and wondered as to its cause. She ran back through what she had said and realised the cause of the younger womans distress. Minerva stood and strode across the kitchen, wrapping her arms around a slender waist. "Surely you know that I don't believe that? Surely you know me better than that?"

"I did."

The arms tightened, Minerva brushed her lips against the side of Hermione's neck. "I was merely providing you with background information about my family. I do not believe that muggle-borns are any different than pure-bloods. On a personal note... you are the most impressive witch I have ever met."

"Really?"

Minerva chuckled before repeating the kiss. "Yes. You impressed me during our first meeting and have continued to do so. Even though you smell of garlic and onions." Hermione laughed and wiped the residue onto the older womans hands. "Ghads." They laughed for a moment, rejoicing in the momentary return to normality.

The sauce began to bubble and Minerva released Hermione so that the younger woman could stir it. She took the time to wash her hands and returned to the table so that the brunette could finish her preparations. "My parents had little time for children but our education was structured so that we would be indoctrined in their beliefs. During their frequent trips to Europe where they helped mass Grindlewalds army, we were looked after by various friends of theirs – The Malfoys for one."

She watched the young womans economical movements as she sliced vegetables for the pot, before washing her hands. "Any opinion, emotional response or even thought that did not agree with my parents beliefs was harshly punished." Hermione listened as Minerva spoke at length in a shaking voice, describing horrific child abuse that she had suffered at the hands of her parents.

"I became a reserved child and an accomplished Occulimens at a very young age. Survival necessitated that I keep my thoughts and feelings to myself – I can go into battle without fear or hesitation but when it comes to matters of the heart I cannot make myself vulnerable. I struggle to stay emotionally involved and when things get hard I shut down."

Tears were blurring Minerva's vision, in direct contradiction of what she had just said – they dripped onto her hands.

"You're being emotional now."

"Yes." Emerald eyes looked up at the younger woman, "Hermione, please come here."

The brunette placed the wooden spoon on the counter and walked over to her lover. "Minerva?"

Minerva caught the shapely witch by her hips and pressed her tearful face against Hermione's stomach, feeling as two hands tangled in her hair – caressing and holding her close. "'Mione, what I did to you was the worst thing that I have **ever** done. I started to realise that when you walked away from me the other night. And then when I saw you with Hooch... I... It struck me exactly how badly I had treated you. I suppressed my emotions so much that I couldn't see how wrong my actions were."

Hermione gently rubbed her fingers against Minerva's temples in a soothing motion.

"I am not trying to make excuses but... I tried to keep away from you, I swear I did. There has always been a powerful draw between us and I was not strong enough to fight it. I was so sure that leaving was the right thing – at first but the more I... came back, the less and less sure I was and so I bound my heart, my feelings tighter and tighter. I was unable to stop... Somehow I had trapped myself in a cycle that I could not change..."

"I should have stopped your visits but I loved you too much. I was prepared to accept any part of you – if it was all I could keep. But the longer it went on, the less that it meant. You gradually eroded my hopes and dreams..." Hermione's words trailed off, not wanting to admit even to herself the depths of her despair.

"And your love? Did I erode that too?"

"Not quite."

Minerva stood and pulled Hermione into a tight embrace, they were face to face looking into each others eyes. "As long as I have your love there is still hope." She leant in and kissed the younger womans cheek softly.

* * *

Dinner was simmering on the stove; Hermione was reading a book on the sofa and Minerva was at the kitchen table writing two letters. The older woman had refused to sit on the new couch claiming that it was too uncomfortable. In truth the distance gave her time to think, she had decided on a very uncharacteristic course of action.

With a flourish the Headmistress signed both pieces of parchment with her distinctive scrawl. "Hermione, may I borrow your owl please?"

"Yeah of course."

The younger witch watched as Minerva tied a letter to each leg of her bird. One was addressed to Filius Flitwick and the other to Kingsley Shacklebolt. The animagus spoke softly to the owl, instructing him to fly to The Ministry first.

Hermione watched the older woman curiously, she was staring after the bird with an odd look on her face. "Minerva?"

"Mmmm?"

"Come sit down and tell me what was in those letters."

Minerva raised an eyebrow but obediently sat next to the young woman, "I was just informing The Minister and Filius that I am going to take personal leave for a month." She was sitting on the sofa calmly and serenely, as though she hadn't just dropped a huge bombshell.

"You... Personal leave?"

"Indeed." Minerva chuckled at the completely shocked look on Hermione's face.

"I... This is somewhat out of character and a month is a long time."

"Hermione, I wanted to take some time for us to get to know each other again. Without Hogwarts getting in the way or the threat of impending death hanging over our heads." Ernest green eyes met chocolate brown orbs that were bright with unshed tears.

"And wh... what did you have in mind Minerva?"

"Well... I had not thought too far ahead because we should really plan things together from now on. But I was thinking that we should spend some time together, perhaps we could take a holiday."

"I... This is rather unexpected but I don't need a grand gesture."

"It's not a gesture Hermione, this is real." She watched as the younger woman burst into tears, pulling the brunette into her arms. "I love you and I want to be able to show you what you mean to me. I want to be able to spend time with you, in the right way."

* * *

**A.N. - Off to the states in 2 days, for three whole weeks... woo-hoo ;)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A.N. Here's your update, enjoy;)**

* * *

The next morning

Hermione awoke with a groan, something hard was digging into her hip. Chocolate eyes snapped open and she looked around at her surroundings.

"Good morning." A husky Scottish brogue caressed her ears.

"Is it good?" The young witch sat up and massaged the abused flesh. "This is not the most comfy bed."

Minerva quirked an eyebrow, "So I noticed... that is until you got into bed with me, when it began to feel far more comfortable."

A flush crept across soft cheeks and Hermione smiled sheepishly. "I..." She paused remembering Minerva's insistence about sleeping in the spare room the previous night. "I wanted..."

Gentle fingers traced the line of pink on the younger womans face, "You wanted me to sleep with you in the Master Bedroom?"

"Yes."

"You should have said that yesterday... and I should have been more aware of your needs." The tone in Minerva's voice was a little strange, almost as though she was talking to herself, thinking while she was speaking. "I am... unaccustomed to this aspect of a relationship and merely felt that sleeping on that horrible item would give you the space that you needed."

Hermione bit her bottom lip but then thought about what the older woman had just said about speaking her mind, "Thank you for thinking about me and I understand why you would believe that I need space but Minerva... I've had four years of space."

Tears stung emerald eyes, "I am sorry, I was trying to do the right thing... I never wanted you to think that it was a rejection... I just do not trust myself around you."

Years before Hermione would have quipped in response, would probably laughed about being irresistible but now she merely said, "You'll have to learn." The shift in attitude spoke volumnes about their relationship as it now stood.

* * *

A week later

The sea was a steely grey that mimicked the sky, topped with frothy white capped waves headed for the breakwater at the tip of the peninsula. The water crashed into the rocks with a windswept fury particular to the stormy Western Isles, tidal surges sucking at the headland in a dance older than time.

An iron railing fused to the rock traced a path from the sole house on the island to a viewing platform high above the churning water. The ocean here did not lap gently at the shore, soothing listeners with a gentle music but pounded discordantly into the cliffs with an almost malevolent ferocity.

From where Minerva stood she could see Hermione, holding tightly to the railing as she stared into the water. Long luxurious dark hair was streaming behind her and tangling in the wind but the younger woman paid it no heed.

The older woman was kneading bread dough on the counter in front of a large window. While her hands moved automatically, her eyes and mind were fixed on the young witch. The past few years had matured the brunette into a very reserved but melancholy woman, her remarkable intelligence and innate wit were even more pronounced now – refined, sharp, honed like a scalpel.

A week had passed since their conversation in the living room and the more time that they spent together the more intrigued Minerva became. The Hermione that she had fallen in love with years before was still there but more... appealing... The older witch found herself captivated by the way the young woman tossed her hair over her shoulder when it got in her way, by the way that she chewed her muggle pen when lost in thought and the way that chocolate eyes locked on hers without fear, doubt or hesitation.

She watched as Hermione turned to face the rented house, watched as the young woman smiled at the sight of her standing in the kitchen. It amazed Minerva that after everything that had happened, the young witch still smiled when she saw her. The other womans capacity for love never ceased to amaze her, it was inspiring.

When the brunette opened the door and walked into the kitchen her steps were buoyant. Watching the roiling sea seemed to have given her some perspective and her mood was ebullient. "Cooking?"

"It relaxes me." They smiled at each other for a timeless moment.

Hermione watched as Minerva's hands stilled with sticky dough between her fingers. She took a single step forward, watching as emerald eyes flicked to her lips before hurriedly returning to meet her gaze. "Minerva?"

The Headmistress stammered through an apology and turned away, trying to focus on the task at hand. She added flour in a jerky motion before stopping and leaning heavily against the counter. For a moment the only sound in the room was their breathing.

Hermione took another silent step forward. Despite the warning from animagus senses Minerva ignored the younger womans actions, cursing her mis-step and hoping that she had not ruined their progress and jeopardised what she knew to be her last chance with the woman she loved.

The brunette heard the soft hitch in Minerva's breathing and recognised the paralysing guilt that held the older woman immobile. When Hermione spoke her voice was soft and loving. "What are you apologising for?"

"I... I shouldn't have..." Slightly incoherent words were uttered in that educated brogue before lapsing into silence.

Three more steps closed the distance between them. One hand rose to rest gently between Minerva's shoulder blades. There was another change in the older witches breathing but it was in a way that made Hermione smile. The inhalations became slightly more rapid. "Believe me Minerva, there is no need to apologise just for looking at me."

"...I do not want you to feel that I am only interested in you for... that."

The hand resting on her back moved, drifting slowly down her spine, trailing goose bumps behind it on sensitive skin before cupping a pronounced hip. Gentle pressure was applied and Minerva found herself being turned to face the younger witch. Still clutching the ball of dough in fingers that were now shaking, she stared into chocolate eyes that were far too close for comfort.

"Minerva, I see the changes that you have made and every attempt that you are making to atone for your behaviour. I'm thankful beyond belief that we are getting a second chance. However sex IS an important part of a relationship as is the attraction that we feel for each other and ok yeah I'm not exactly ready to jump into bed with you... yet. We cannot avoid intimate contact or our desires completely."

"How can you trust me after everything that has happened? After everything I have done? When I cannot trust myself."

Hermione took a final step forward moving well into Minerva's personal space, watching emerald eyes widen. She leant forward, tilting her face upwards in invitation of the kiss that her lover was dreading. Alluring chocolate eyes fluttered closed behind dark lashes and she pressed her lips against the ones that Minerva parted helplessly.

The kiss was soft and gentle but not hesitant as the two women reacquainted themselves with the taste of their mate. Lips moved against and over each other as tongues began to dance for the first time in years. Minerva was held captive by her own inhibitions as much as she was held by the mangled ball of dough still clenched in her hands. When the kiss finally broke she looked down trying to conceal the tears in her eyes.

"Hey stop that." Hermione's voice was gentle and soft as she lifted Minerva's chin, trying to gain eye contact.

"...Sorry."

"What have I told you about apologising?"

A snuffle was heard, followed by a chuckle.

"That's better. Now... do you need any help with dinner?"

"No... Thank you 'Mione. Rather a lot of post arrived while you were outside..."

Hermione laughed, "I'm on holiday."

"Most was from your publisher. Perhaps you should..."

"Trying to get rid of me?"

"God forbid but I cannot concentrate with you in the same room. As you are well aware."

A cheeky smile crossed pretty features, "How about a compromise?"

"Hmmm?"

"I answer my post at the kitchen table and try not to distract you."

Minerva dropped the doughball on the counter and smeared flour onto Hermione's nose with a chuckle, "It sounds wonderful but... if I burn myself I am holding you responsible.

An eyebrow lifted in an amused response, "Well then maybe you'll have to spank me."

The older witch began to choke as she mistakenly inhaled saliva in shock at the jest. It took her some time to recover and she muttered, "Indeed."

* * *

A few days later

Minerva stood in the grounds of her own castle feeling almost as though she didn't belong here. She felt off-balance, not used to conducting personal business on school grounds – or at all for that matter. So much had happened in the last week, none of it at Hogwarts and it had changed her.

The Headmistress strode onto the Quidditch portraying a confidence that she did not feel. She was about halfway toward the distant figure when Hooch straightened up and looked directly at her. "What do you want?" Contempt twisted the blondes features as she aggressively stared at her employer.

Minerva McGonagall literally bit her lip to hold back the retort that threatened to erupt in response. "I wanted to talk to you about this." She held up the sheet of parchment that held Hooch's resignation.

"Strangely I have no particular urge to talk to you."

"Hooch, you are a good teacher and I do not want you to leave on my account."

"And I don't want to stand by and watch." The flying instructor bent down and picked up the quaffle, mainly to hide her face from the older woman. She tossed it in Minerva's direction – hard!

The Headmistress deftly caught the ball. "We are both in love with the same woman. That does not mean that we cannot work together." She threw it in the same manner that Hooch had.

"And what? You think that I should just loose gracefully and stand by while you hurt her again?"

Elegant nostrils flared. "I have no intention of hurting her again. I know that you will not believe me but I..."

"Damn right I don't believe you. You are one of the coldest women that I have ever met and you spent years using Hermione. Then all of a sudden you decide to be a human being?"

The ball hit Minerva in the stomach and knocked her backwards. "I **fucked up** Hooch!"

Hooch took her own step back, shocked not only by the fact that Minerva had screamed at her but that she had cursed. She had known the distinguished, elegant professor for more years than she cared to remember - while the older woman was known for her cutting remarks and sarcastic put-downs. Hooch had rarely even heard Minerva raise her voice and to hear her roar was more than a little out of character. For the first time it occurred to her that there was real emotional turmoil behind that emerald gaze.

"Yeah you did... Big time!"

"I... I feel that I have to thank you." The venerable Headmistress sat on the grass, dropping the ball and looking up at Hooch.

"Why, what for?"

"For keeping her sane... For bringing HER back... For being there for her when I couldn't... wouldn't... And for making me realise what I was letting slip through my fingers."

"I don't want or need your thanks."

"Nevertheless."

Hooch sat on the grass some distance away from her employer. "I have never heard you swear... or shout for that matter."

"I apologise for that, I do not normally loose control... although..." She cut off, surprising Hooch once again – Minerva was never at a loss for words.

"You cannot expect me to condone either your own actions or your attempt to win Hermione back."

Emerald eyes looked up. "I am not asking you to."

"What do you want?"

"I want you to retract your resignation."

"Well I don't want to do anything for your benefit."

"I do not want you to do it for me... You are a great teacher, just be sure that you are doing it for the right reasons. Whatever you choose I have to ask you for a favour."

"What?"

"Hermione needs you."

Hooch slammed the lid of the trunk containing the rest of the Quidditch balls shut with a loud bang. "You are unbelievable!"

"She needs a friend, someone other than me, to talk to..."

"Next you'll be saying, 'if you really loved her, you'd do it'..."

Minerva shook her head, speaking softly, "No I would never belittle your feelings like that. I understand why you would fall in love with her, I may not like it but I understand it."

"You've won, you realise that don't you? Hermione is so blinded by love that she doesn't even care what you did to her."

"For the record, it is not about winning or loosing. 'Mione certainly does care and contrary to what you might believe she hasn't forgiven me."

The hawk-eyed woman stared at her employer for a long time, despite her feelings – it did seem that something had changed the older woman. Minerva never took personal time off and the fact that she had spoke volumnes. "Have you spoken about it?"

"My past, my motivations and my own amateur psycho-self-analysis, our hopes for the future, our reconciliation, you. But not the actual mechanics of what happened."

"Perhaps you should."

"Perhaps."

Hooch turned to leave but stopped and spoke with her back to Minerva, "I'll think about it but remember anything that I do, I am doing for Hermione and I will NEVER forgive you for what you've done to her."

"Fair enough."

They parted acrimoniously but somehow despite the harsh words, things between them were far better than they had been before.

* * *

"How did it go?" Urgent chocolate eyes checked Minerva for injury.

"Better than expected actually."

Hermione nodded, knowing that it was the best outcome – it looked like no hexes had been exchanged and Minerva had not been crying. "I missed you." She said simply.

Minerva's eyes widened at the comment, they had been spending the last several days in extremely close proximity to each other – never being apart for more than a few minutes, this had been their longest separation since they had reconciled. She stepped closer to the younger witch, "I missed you too."

Hermione reached out and pulled Minerva into an embrace. Out of an old half-forgotten habit, her arms wrapped around the older womans back, fingers caressing ebony tresses and she felt strong hands come to rest on her lower back – tightly holding her close. "Do you want to go out and have dinner?"

Hermione smiled, "Hungry?"

"Very, I was too nervous to eat lunch."

"No one would believe me if I told them that you get nervous."

"Probably not but you know me better than that."

"Yes I do. Where would you like to grab dinner?" Hermione stood up on her tiptoes and kissed Minerva briefly on the lips, before letting go of her and pulling her cloak from the peg by the door.

"I do not have a preference but I happen to know that Madam Rosmerta makes a wonderful venison pie, unless you would prefer to go elsewhere."

The younger woman blinked. "You want to go to the Three Broomsticks... with me?"

"Who else would I want to go with? I told you that I had no intention of hiding our relationship and I meant it. I made mistakes with you right from the start love and I will not do that again."

* * *

Madam Rosmerta looked up from the bar as she heard the door open and almost dropped the glass that she was polishing. Carefully she placed it down and walked over to welcome the unexpected new arrivals. "Minerva..?"

"Evening Rosmerta, I hope we are not too late for dinner."

"Of course not. I am surprised to see you here this evening." And it was, rarely did the Headmistress of Hogwarts come into the pub on a weeknight.

Minerva smiled, "I am on... personal leave at the moment and had a craving for your wonderful pie." She paused a beat, "You remember Hermione?"

Ever the professional host Rosmerta turned to the younger witch, "Of course. I've been hearing wonderful things about your work lately. Emmanuel Flourish was in last week bragging about his profits."

"Always good to know."

Rosmerta chuckled, "Especially when you get the royalties cheque."

"Yep."

The barmaid turned back to Minerva, "The usual... or did you want to see a menu?"

"A bottle of wine perhaps and... did you want to look at a menu?"

Rosmerta noticed the Headmistresses voice soften as she spoke to the younger woman and the warmth in Hermione's eyes when she replied, "Well I've heard wonderful things about the venison pie..." In a flash of inspiration Rosmerta realised that the two women were deeply involved with each other.

"Good choice, your normal table is free." She handed them an expensive wine bottle and two glasses, nodding as the two women thanked her before moving away from the bar. "Wow." She muttered to herself before walking into the kitchen, wryly shaking her head.

Still not used to being in crowded places Hermione kept her gaze on Minerva's robes as they walked through the pub. The table the older woman led her to was in the back of the building, not hidden in a corner but visible to everyone. It took the younger woman a moment to realise why the more experienced witch favoured it. The table was easily defensible, offering a view of both entrances and the entire building. They sat next to each other, so that they could face everyone and Minerva scooted her chair nearer, ensuring that she would be able to touch her lover.

Hermione reached over and poured them both a glass of a rich red wine. The older woman took a sip and gave a pleasurable moan. "Nice?" The brunette asked the rhetorical question before tasting it for herself and making an identical noise.

Finally daring to look around the room Hermione spotted a familiar figure sitting alone at the far end of the bar. She stiffened as she saw an acid green quill frantically moving across a notepad. "Sweetheart, do not pay her any heed."

She turned to face Minerva, "But..."

"But it does not matter, we know the truth and I honestly do not care what she reports." Hermione stared up at her lover incredulously, shock written all over her face. "Love, I recently got a lesson on what is truly important. We were going to make the news sooner or later in any case."

"I love you."

Minerva blinked at the declaration, surprised and touched. "I love you too." Elegant fingers traced the line of Hermione's jaw, lovingly, tenderly.

At that moment the entire pub fell silent as all eyes fell on the two women. Chocolate brown and emerald green met and they began to laugh uncontrollably. Hermione placed her hand on Minerva's thigh to steady herself, as they continued to chuckle. Rosmerta could see the situation becoming a little awkward and wanted to stop her patrons from staring – she tossed a glass onto the floor with a loud crash, instantly gaining attention from most of the people present.

Both women knew what she had done but truthfully they only had eyes for each other. Hermione took her hand away and reached for her wineglass, trying to dampen down the rush of desire that the contact had caused. "Do... do you come here often?"

"Some weekends I might drop in for a drink with another professor." Minerva shrugged eloquently. "It is a good place for informal meetings."

Hermione swallowed a large mouthful of the wonderful wine, leaning back into the soft cushioned chair. She was finally starting to relax, partially due to the older womans presence. A few minutes passed in companionable silence before a plate of mixed starters appeared in front of them. She watched as Minerva's lips twisted into a partial smile.

"What?"

Minerva reached out and snagged a piece of breaded chicken, "It seems that Rosmerta approves of you... of us."

"Really? What makes you think that?"

It was at that moment that the overhead light turned off and a lit candle appeared in front of them. Hermione laughed again shaking her head.

Minerva spoke again, in that curiously soft voice, "Free food that we did not order... a bottle of her carefully hoarded favourite wine... dinner by candlelight. Suffice to say that she does not do that for every customer."

Hermione grinned again and began to eat, another moment passed. "Are you missing being at Hogwarts?"

"In some ways but in truth I am enjoying the time off. Not least of all because I have been with you."

"When was the last time you had a real, long, vacation?"

There was a far away look in deep green eyes that Hermione recognised as her being lost in thought. "I believe it was... the summer of nineteen seventy-eight."

"Seventy-eight huh?"

"I spent two weeks sailing around the Seychelles with a cute blonde."

"Indeed." The young witch kept her voice level, fighting down the spike of jealousy that she felt at the idea of Minerva with another woman. Regardless of the fact that it had happened before she had even been born.

"...And got a rather nice tan."

"All over?"

"As a matter of fact... no."

Hermione spluttered into her glass of wine, "I knew it."

The older woman smirked and waved her wand, cleaning the red liquid off of the table. She placed her hand on top of Hermione's, "I am fairly particular about who I take my clothes off in front of."

"It had better only be me."

Minerva chuckled, "It is only you... You my dear, are the only one that I want."

Conversation slowly moved on to other things but Hermione was acutely aware of the strong muscular thigh pressed against her own. Dinner arrived and Minerva brought up something that had been bothering her since the morning, "What did your publisher say? You have been rather quiet since you opened the letter."

"Oh, it was an invitation to speak at a conference for magical historians."

"Did you reply?"

"Not yet but I'm not going."

Minerva frowned, "Why ever not?"

"They're all going to be far older than me, far more experienced and I am not even used to speaking to people any more, much less public speaking."

The older womans frown deepened and she took a moment to think, raising her fork she placed some more pie in her mouth. Once she had swallowed she turned to the young witch, "Fear of public speaking huh? I think that is something that I can help you with." The guilt that she was currently feeling was immense.

"I doubt it."

"Trust me, we can work on the nuances but you have a love and enthusiasm for your subject that will make you forget about your audience."

"At least you didn't tell me to picture them in their underwear."

An elegant eyebrow quirked and Minerva replied in a deadpan voice, "Well... in my profession that is rather frowned upon."

Hermione began to choke on her food as she tried not to laugh at the joke. She was immensely grateful when her lover leant over, patting her hard on the back. Gasping for air, still coughing she drank some wine.

Minerva leant back watching every movement that the younger woman made. Intent green eyes watched colour rise, enhancing high cheekbones and showcasing lovely features. "You are so beautiful."

"Especially when I am coughing my guts up?"

"...Always."

Hermione smiled at her, noting the tears that were kept in check by sheer willpower gleaming in emerald orbs. There had been far too much crying lately and she really didn't want any more of it while they were getting on so well. "I'll think about the conference."

Minerva nodded before broaching a more difficult subject, "I was thinking about the flat."

"Hmmm?"

"Well, your book collection has overtaken every room and is growing daily. There are also some rather... negative memories there. I wondered if perhaps we should look at something bigger, together?"

Astute chocolate eyes narrowed slightly as they took in Minerva's nervous posture and the look on the older womans face. When she had initially bought the flat; they had not yet been together, the war had still been raging and she had picked it out of a brochure sight-unseen. "There are also some positive memories there Minerva. It was where we first lived, the first home that we set up together."

Minerva took another sip of her drink considering the careful, neutral tone in the younger womans voice. "You are worried that I am trying to hide from the past."

"A little. We cannot ignore or forget what happened."

"I know and that is not what I am trying to do, Miss change-all-the-furniture."

Hermione chuckled. "So what did you have in mind?"

"I have never chosen a home before but I would suggest perhaps a small house. With room for your substantial library and a study for each of us."

"How much time do you anticipate spending at home?"

Minerva quirked her lips and placed her hand over the young womans, "As much as I possibly can. Every second weekend, a few evenings the alternate week – perhaps the odd meal too."

Hermione turned her hand over, so that she could grasp Minerva's in her own. "Please tell me that you really mean it."

"I do. I really mean it. I cannot imagine my life without you in it."

* * *

The next morning

Hermione sat at the table watching Minerva make breakfast, their bags were packed and resting in the hall as they prepared to leave the holiday cottage and return to their flat. She stood and crossed the room, wrapping her arms around the older womans waist and pressing her lips against the side of her neck.

Minerva chuckled, "You are not helping."

"I'm hindering."

"That you are." A quick flick of her wrist turned the burner down and the older woman spun around, one hand unerringly tangled in chestnut curls and the other found Hermione's waist. Tender lips found full ones, as for the first time since their reconciliation – a kiss was instigated by Minerva. It started off gentle but soon became passionate.

It was another moment when time appeared to stand still and all that they were aware of was the feel of their mate held tightly in an eager embrace. The whole world drifted away with the intensity of that kiss and they clung to each other in the sunlit kitchen. Tongues met in a lusty dance and Hermione moaned, as fire roared to life in her veins.

Acrid smoke drew their attention back to the kitchen. "Shit!" Minerva turned to extinguish the small fire that had ignited in the skillet.

Hermione laughed, "Sorry."

"Not your fault."

At that moment an owl appeared at the window, it had a copy of The Daily Prophet strapped to one leg. "Oh ho."

"Go on, read it."

Hermione stepped over to the window and let the bird in, she untied the paper and placed the required amount of change in the pouch around its other leg. She shook the paper flat so that she could scan the front page, "Well we didn't make the headlines."

"Shame."

As Hermione sat down at the table she noticed the cup of coffee that levitated over to her. "Thank you." In a great many ways Minerva was back to her old thoughtful and considerate self, albeit very hesitant when it came to some things. "Oh we're on page two."

"Do share."

* * *

_As the Daily Prophet was going into print last night, our own Rita Skeeter brought exciting news from the village of Hogsmead. Last week we reported on the sudden and mysterious announcement from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, that Headmistress Minerva McGonagall was taking extended leave for undisclosed personal reasons._

_We at the Prophet have discovered the truth behind the excuse of 'personal reasons'. A former student in fact. Her name is Hermione Granger, well known but reclusive magical historian, author and one time member of the 'Golden Trio'. This reporter saw them lingering over an intimate and candlelit dinner in the Three Broomsticks yesterday evening._

_The nature of their interaction and the touches that they shared, left no doubt that they are romantically involved with each other. Turn to page five for more eyewitness statements and reactions from members of the wizarding community._


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note: Thanks for your patience waiting for the update, hope it was worth the wait. I am expecting to do only another couple of chapters for this story maximum because I've had an idea for something else.**

* * *

Two days later - Epsom, Surrey

"Try to relax." The comment was not directed at Hermione but rather at the older witch sat on the sofa beside her. Minerva crossed her legs, trying to act casual but not relaxing the death-grip that she had on the younger womans hand. Julie sat back in her own chair facing them, "I know that it is hard to do this for the first time but this is just an informal chat. Think of it as an opportunity to talk about anything that might be bothering you."

The ebony haired witch took a deep breath and crossed her legs the other way. Hermione merely looked down at their hands without saying a word.

Julie sighed. "Ok, I'll start. How is the reconciliation going?" There was still silence from the other women, "Hermione?" She added pointedly.

"Well... uh... very well."

"Minerva?"

"Yes, rather good..."

Julie gave another sigh, this one mental – why did people ask for her help and then sit there saying nothing? So it surprised her when Minerva cleared her throat and finished her statement.

"...Much better than I could have ever hoped for."

"What makes you say that Minerva?"

Hermione's hand tightened around the older womans when she heard the harsh indrawn breath that the ebony haired witch gave before answering. "I did terrible, reprehensible things to the woman I love with all my heart and I find it incredible that she is willing to give me another chance...but I am so grateful for it." Minerva broke off, shaking her head.

"Hermione?" Julie prompted, wondering if the two reticent women were really going to open up to her. Or even to each other in front of her.

"How could I not give you a second chance? I love you and despite everything that has not changed. Besides you are not entirely to blame, I have to take a share of it too."

"Hermione..." Minerva breathed, pulling the younger witch into a hug. "You did nothing wrong."

"I could have stopped you at any point and I chose not to."

"Why not?" The two witches on the sofa jumped when they heard Julie's voice, having practically forgotten that the counsellor was there.

"I...I... At first I was happy that Minerva couldn't keep away... That what she felt was so strong that she had to be with me... The passion would drive away any of my sensibilities... Then things began to change, gradually everything but the passion faded. My... I wanted to keep hold of her, to take whatever I could get. And then it was all I lived for." Tears shone in chocolate eyes but Hermione didn't cry.

"I think that it would be helpful if you could explain what you were feeling at that time Minerva." Bright blue eyes were curious and the redheads voice was soft. If she was being judgemental she hid it well.

"Honestly... I was not feeling anything. I had realised early on that I could not live without Hermione and... I could not stay away... but I repressed my emotions so much that I did not feel how wrong my actions were. I never let myself think about it logically. It all made sense at the time but now..." Minerva curled her free hand into a fist and hit the arm of the chair as hard as she could.

"Why are you angry? What are you angry at?"

The ebony haired witch scowled, "Myself! I am completely disgusted with my actions and the fact that I could do something so despicable."

There was something else lying underneath the statement and Julie made a mental note to ask about it at a later date – when everyone was more comfortable. She changed the subject, giving the woman who was near hysterical tears time to compose herself. "What are your plans for the future?"

"Well Minerva suggested that we should move to a bigger place, a little nearer Hogwarts."

"That's a pretty good idea, how do you feel about it?"

"I had my reservations at first, thought that perhaps she wanted to hide from the past but she reassured me. We are going to look at some properties in a few days."

Julie nodded, watching the two women interact with each other; the small touches and the glances. Inwardly she was rather reassured, part of her had doubted Minerva's new found altruism – thinking that it was an act but now she had changed her mind. It seemed that they were both trying to rebuild their relationship on better terms.

* * *

That evening - The Flat

Minerva looked up from her book and glanced across the room, Hermione was at her desk frantically tapping at what she was told was a com...pooter. The younger womans lips were pursed in concentration, a lock of chestnut hair had escaped from her ponytail and fell into her face – she looked beautiful. Words began to scroll across the screen rapidly and Minerva returned to the Transfiguration tome that she was reading, not wanting to disturb the other witch.

An hour passed before she looked up again. This time Hermione was poking at pictures of food. "What are you doing love?"

"Just ordering some shopping, that's all."

"How?"

Wordlessly the younger woman enlarged her computer chair and patted the empty space beside her. Minerva accepted the invitation with alacrity and slid into Hermione's waiting embrace. "Ok so what it is, I order the food online and book a time for it to be delivered."

Two eyebrows lifted and the older woman looked underneath the desk, "Which line? One of these wires? Do they stretch?"

Hermione fought back the urge to laugh, realising that she would have to start at the basics with the older pure-blood. "My computer connects with other computers all around the world, that's what I mean by online – it's also called the internet." The young woman paused but no recognition was forthcoming. "At first that network was used to exchange information, very much like a number of huge libraries working together but easy to access. In recent years businesses have cottoned on to the fact that they can sell goods on there and arrange delivery to suit the customer."

"Like ordering via owl post?"

"Yes, only your order and payment is received instantly. Some items come in the regular muggle post but others are specially delivered. This company allows me to purchase food, uh... say I want bread, I click on where it says bakery... wait... now click on bread... wait... then I scroll down to the picture of the one I want and click on that and it goes into my basket."

"Ooooh. What else can you order on-the-line?"

"Pretty much everything but not from the same place; food, clothes, books, furniture, jewellery, pizza, Chinese food, toiletries, music, cars, houses, holidays, plane flights... most everything."

"Hmmm, that sounds rather convenient."

"It is." Hermione clicked on the final few things that she needed and reviewed her purchases. "Let me grab us a drink and I will show you how to book a delivery and pay." She walked into the kitchen and uncorked a bottle of wine and got some glasses out of the cupboard, leaving Minerva alone with the computer.

* * *

_Dear Minerva_

_Please forgive my impudence but I wondered if the article in The Prophet was correct and that you do have some form of contact with Hermione? It has been years since we had any contact with her and I have been unable to find her. We are having a gathering of sorts on Friday from 7pm and we would love to have you both over._

_Regards_

_Molly Weasley_

* * *

The next afternoon - Just outside of Hogsmede

Hermione twirled around slowly, the sound of her shoes loud on the hardwood floor. "This is a wonderful room."

Minerva opened the brochure and quickly scanned the description. "Apparently it is a formal dining room, which we do not really require."

"The kitchen is more than big enough to put a table in and this would make a nice library."

"It certainly would have more than enough room for expansion." There was a smile on Minerva's face and in her voice. "Shall we look at the rest of the house?"

They took the other door out of the dining room and stepped across the hall and into a living room that was cosy but not small. Certainly large enough for their needs. One side had a traditional stone fireplace and chimney. Another door led back into the kitchen and the entrance hall beyond it.

The hall was tiled, it contained only the stairs and entrances to the other rooms along with a staircase up to the second floor. Underneath the stairs was only a small cloakroom but according to the brochure the family bathroom was upstairs. They climbed up the staircase and walked into the master bedroom, which was the size of the dining room and had its own fireplace.

All of the rooms upstairs were light and airy with a spectacular view over the open countryside towards Hogwarts. Hermione opened a window wide and leant out looking out at the large fenced garden. "It's been many years since I had a garden."

"A patio underneath those trees, next to that pond would be a wonderful place to sit on a summers evening..."

"Together?" There was a questioning note in Hermione's voice.

"Always."

Hermione turned around in response to the softly spoken word, recognising that it was a promise. She wrapped her arms around the older woman, who encircled her in a soft embrace. Lips brushed against her forehead, across her cheekbone, her nose and met her own in a kiss.

Minerva fought the urge to press Hermione against the wall and ravage those plump lips, instead she tangled her fingers into a mass of chestnut curls, pulling the younger woman closer. The other elegant hand clutched at Hermione's waist, moulding their bodies together.

The younger woman was not quite as reserved, her hands began to wander – one cupping a small but pert backside, the other brushing against a tender ribcage, grazing the side of Minerva's left breast. When the kiss broke there was something daring about her intense chocolate gaze, a fire that entranced the older woman. "I love you." Both witches whispered the phrase at the same moment.

Minerva dropped a tender kiss on the very tip of Hermione's nose, knowing from old that it would make the younger woman giggle.

* * *

Thursday afternoon - The Flat

Hermione opened the door in answer to the Tesco delivery driver, he handed her the documentation and wheeled a series of green boxes to the door. "Alright luv, just going to get the rest out of the van."

The young woman whipped out her wand and began to unpack the boxes. Minerva watched with a smirk as meat began to fly across the flat and into the fridge and freezer. Vegetables danced into racks and the crisping drawer, fruit gently bounced into the bowl and tins tangoed into the cupboard. An elderly Crookshanks appeared when a packet of food emptied itself into her bowl.

Neatly stacked empty crates waited in the hall for the driver and Hermione picked up the sheets of paper, flicking through them automatically. After a moment she paused and began to read more carefully.

"Minerva... did you order more... stuff when I was in the loo the other day?"

"Yes, is that alright?"

"Um... yeah that's fine. You ordered Ginger Nuts?"

"I wanted to know if they were like Ginger Newts."

"They are pretty similar... But you ordered twenty packets."

"It said they special offer for a limited period."

"Aaaah. Ten bottles of baby oil?"

Minerva gave an elegant shrug, "Maybe I wanted to give you a backrub."

"Oh... That sounds nice but I think you'll be rubbing my back for a year or so with ten bottles."

Minerva walked closer, "I did not know how big they were. Although I'll rub your back as much as you want."

Hermione giggled as she made her way down the list, "But will you explain the dog food and toys – we don't even have a dog?"

"I know how fond you are of Hooch and her mutt, I thought you would like to make them feel at home when they visit."

The young woman wrapped her arms around Minerva, tears shining in her eyes as she pulled her into a long tender, passionate kiss that was only broken by the delivery driver clearing his throat.

* * *

Friday evening

Hermione finished buttoning her blouse and turned to face a very sombre Minerva. The older woman was dressed in forest green robes and was sat on the bed. Her inner tension showed in the set of her shoulders and the way she was rubbing her hands together in her lap. The young woman sighed unhappily, the atmosphere in the flat had changed the nearer they came to Molly's gathering.

Carelessly the young witch tossed her chestnut curls back over her shoulder and crossed the room. She took one of Minerva's hands in both of hers, clasping it tightly and pressing it against her leg. "Don't shut down, please."

"I am not Hermione, believe me... I want to talk but I have no idea what to say or what to expect at Molly's later on."

"My introvert..." The young womans voice was soft, caring.

"You have also been rather quiet my dear."

Hermione nodded, "I know. Let's get this over with and get back on with our lives ok?"

Minerva's hand gently squeezed the young womans leg, before lifting it and wrapping both arms around her lover. "That sounds like a very good plan." Their lips met in a brief but loving contact.

A wave of a wand later and they were ready to go.

* * *

The Burrow

Molly instantly recognised their nervousness when she greeted them at the door. To try and calm their nerves she handed them a drink that George had created several years earlier, it was brightly coloured and full of sugar but had enough alcohol in it to put the spark back into the two women.

Hermione took a large swig, noticing that the liquid refilled immediately. A glance around revealed a house both familiar and unfamiliar, now that the Weasleys no longer had to support their children they could spend money on improving The Burrow. Still homely but no longer poorly appointed, the living room was welcoming as they walked through the door.

The young witch breathed a sigh of relief when she realised that Ron was not present, she honestly couldn't have faced one of his tirades at that point. Both womens eyes went to Harry's favourite seat by the window – a seat that no one was sitting in even now. Again, they felt the loss of the young man intensely. Hermione watched as Minerva took a convulsive swallow of her drink.

"Hermione... Prof." George walked over with his easy charm and greeted the two of them.

"George."

"Mr Weasley."

The young man wrapped an arm around the younger of the two women and pulled her into a bear-hug. "It's been too long sweetie." He pressed his lips against her temple and whispered, "Missed you."

"It's good to see you too."

George pulled back, recognising the genuine pleasure in her voice but realising that her words were much more reserved than they would have been half a decade earlier. Out of everyone in the room, he could truly appreciate the changes that loss could cause. He paused for a moment before proffering his hand to Minerva, who shook it with obvious surprise. The remaining twin cleared his throat, "I'd like to introduce you to Marielle. We're engaged."

An unfamiliar brunette stepped towards them, she was heavily pregnant and wearing a huge diamond ring. "Hermione, I've heard so much about you." Her voice had a subtle French accent and she leaned in to kiss both cheeks in the continental fashion. "And Headmistress, I would heartily like to apologise for his behaviour at school, I have heard some terrible things."

Minerva allowed a chuckle at the remark, and lowered her gaze to Marielle's stomach. "I am unsure if I can survive another generation of Weasleys."

The entire room erupted into laughter at the remark and with that the ice was broken.

* * *

Molly spent much of the evening watching the two women. They spent most of their time next to each other, almost but not quite touching – even when they were across the room talking to other people their eyes would meet, like they were checking on each others welfare. They moved towards the other like they were drawn by gravity.

She noticed that while Hermione and Minerva were obviously in an intimate relationship, it did not appear that they were the new 'star-struck lovers' that the newspaper had suggested. The way that they acted suggested that the relationship was of much longer standing. However there was an odd dynamic between the two that she could not quite put her finger on.

Dinner had been eaten an hour or so before, her friends and family were lingering over drinks. She had not yet had a chance to talk seriously to Hermione, pleasantries had been exchanged but nothing more than that. There was one cloud on the horizon, Ron had not been at dinner – past experience told Molly that he would roll in a few hours late, extremely drunk. And she hadn't told him that his former friend was coming.

* * *

It was almost ten o' clock when Ron wrenched open the door and staggered into the room, he looked around with an aggressive petulant expression and grabbed a wine bottle off of the table – without bothering to read the label or use a glass, he raised it to his lips and began to gulp at the contents.

Bloodshot blue eyes suddenly narrowed when he located Hermione in the crowd. "What the hell is SHE doing here?" The drunken young man was incapable of doing anything other than screaming across the room. "How can you have her here after what she did?"

Hermione's eyes flashed with pain and Minerva moved around the table, so that she was near enough to intervene if things got too heavy but she also stayed far enough back to let the young woman handle her former best friend. "What? What did I do Ron?"

"Nothing! That's the bloody point! You let them die, it's your fault!"

Molly gasped.

Hermione's brown eyes shone with tears. "You weren't there either! If it's my fault just because I wasn't there - then you are just as responsible."

"Like hell I am! You're the responsible one, the reliable one, the intelligent one, the perfect one who solves the problems."

"They're dead and buried Ronald. Yeah I feel guilty that I wasn't there... I let that guilt tear my life apart but I'm not going to do that anymore – If I had been there I wouldn't have been able to change anything. We owe it to their memory to make the best of our lives." The hands that Hermione had behind her back were shaking.

"Where the hell were you that night? Off with your head in some book or shacked up with some dude." Ron saw a momentary weakness in her eyes, "Is that it? Were you out whoring? – You bitch!" When he said those final two words, he was standing right in her face almost spitting the accusation at her. Aware of being more jealous than he had ever been before.

Suddenly he found himself looking up from the floor, pain flared in his face and reaching with tentative fingers, he found that his lip was bleeding from a fierce punch. His smirk faded when he recognised Minerva McGonagall standing in front of him with a force ten glare on her face. It was his former professor who had hit him.

Emerald eyes quickly interrogated chocolate brown, checking that the younger woman was okay. There was a loving fire in her eyes that even Molly could see from the other side of the room. An elegant hand found its way onto the small of the shorter womans back. "Not that it is any of your business Mr Weasley but that night, Hermione was with me!"

"What, studying?" His voice was full of scorn and it was obvious that he had not stopped drinking long enough to read The Daily Prophet.

"No! She was with me, in **our** bed!"

"What?"

"You heard." The two words were icy.

"Your bed?"

"Need I draw you a diagram?" The comeback was uttered in a sardonic tone. "Hermione and I lived together, I came home unexpectedly that evening and she stayed with me – rather than go out. Harry and Ginevra were not expecting her... Irrationally we both felt guilty, something that tore apart our relationship. You choose to blame her because you feel guilty and it is easier to take it out on someone else."

"Why shouldn't I? If she'd been with me, we would have been there together."

Minerva growled in anger, "So this is about your misplaced feelings for Hermione, rather than your own guilt? You are blaming her for their deaths because she rejected you?"

"ENOUGH!" The voice of the Weasley matriarch cut across them all. "That is more than enough." The plump woman placed herself between them. "Is that what this is all about?"

Molly Wesley flashed back to a conversation she had had with Hermione years before when the young woman had been at school. _"Mrs Weasley, I know you've been reading some terrible things about me but they just aren't true. I am not playing Harry and Viktor off of each other, they are both just friends. As for Ron's feelings... they'll always be unrequited... because... I... am a... lesbian... "_

"None of you should feel guilty about their deaths because none of you are to blame. Look at you Ron, you are a wreck, drinking all of the time, sleeping with whoever will have you... What, you thought I didn't know? Hermione, you've turned into a recluse, no one has seen you in years – you stay in seclusion writing books but not living. Minerva..." Molly cut off, not knowing how it had affected the headmistress – only knowing that it had.

"Listen to me carefully. None of you need to feel guilty, much less let it haunt you. There's only one person who should feel guilty and it's me!"

Three pairs of eyes had not left hers during the entire speech and at this point they all widened.

"That's right! Ginny fire called me the night that they died. She told me that the two of them were leaving the borders of the Fidelius Charm and that they wanted to go out for dinner, just get away for a couple of hours. At that point things were quieting down and I didn't think that there would be any harm in it – besides it would have been almost impossible to change their minds once they were made up. You know how stubborn they both could be. She told me to let you two know where they were if you came looking for them but neither of you did."

Molly sat down, suddenly looking her age. "Ginny and Harry were killed on their way home, just outside the limits of the charm. They were surrounded by a large number of Death Eaters, nothing could have saved them – to think otherwise is stupid. I should have called the aurors, made sure that they escorted them home but I didn't – so if you want to blame anyone Ron, blame me!"

* * *

The next morning - The Flat

Hermione groaned and pulled the blanket up over her face because the room was far too bright. Next to her Minerva let out a similar noise that was in her opinion – far too loud. "Mnnnugh." The brunette burrowed her head into the older womans shoulder.

A long elegant arm reached over Hermione, fumbling around for the two potions that she had placed on the bedside table before going to sleep. Despite her thundering headache, she pulled the blanket back.

"Mnnnurrgppf." Hermione pulled the pillow over her face.

"Take this." Heeding her own advice Minerva tossed the rancid tasting liquid down her throat and watched as Hermione reluctantly followed suit. They lay back on the pillows, waiting for the hangover potion to work.

Gradually nausea and headaches receded.  
Hermione rolled over and wrapped an arm around the older witch.  
Minerva brushed her lips against the young womans, murmuring against them in frustration as they refused to part to allow her entry. She pulled back concerned.

"Hermione...?"

The young witch moved back a little, "Morning breath," she said by way of explanation, covering her mouth embarrassed.

Incredulous green eyes looked wryly at her lover. "Love... after all this time... do you think I care about that?"

Hermione merely blushed and looked down at the sheets. Minerva gave a chuckle and got out of bed, heading for the bathroom in search of a toothbrush. As she walked away, she could feel intent eyes boring into her back. Once the older witch was out of sight of Hermione she breathed into her own hand, sniffing hard before pulling a face.

The animagus thoroughly scrubbed her teeth and tongue, rinsing her mouth out before returning into the other room. She sat on the edge of the bed and smiled teasingly at her young lover, flirtatiously raising her eyebrows rapidly. Hermione sighed and went to brush her own teeth.

* * *

Minerva was taken by surprise when the young woman came back and sat on her lap. Before she could speak, lips were hard against her own, the kiss literally stealing her breath away. Tongues danced playfully, grazing against each other – teeth nibbled gently at lips. Hermione's hands slid into the loose neck of Minerva's nightshirt, caressing the hollow of the older womans throat, tracing the pronounced, delicate collar bone either side of her neck.

The older woman moaned. _How she loved to be touched there_. Her hands were clenched into fists as she fought to keep them under control. She was struggling hard to avoid pulling the younger woman tighter against her body, fighting to stop herself from caressing those gorgeous curves that she knew oh so very well.

Hermione could feel Minerva trembling, knew that the older woman was trying to keep her desire locked inside. There was nothing that she could say to change that right now and if she kept up with her onslaught, Minerva would succumb but regret it later. Her guilt was holding her immobile and creating strong inhibitions about physical contact.

The younger witch had that all in mind when she broke the kiss. Her hands grasped Minerva's waist and she rested her cheek on the older womans shoulder – pressing her face against the soft skin of that elegant neck for a long moment. Listening to both of them struggling to calm their breathing.

Lips gently caressed the skin that they were resting on, keeping it tender rather than arousing.

Hermione stood, brushing long ebony hair out of Minerva's face, eyes admiring the flush that adored slender cheeks. "I need a shower..." She injected a certain amount of regret into her voice and straightened up.

The young witch walked across the room, knowing that the older womans eyes followed the sway of her hips. Swallowing the last remnants of her caution, Hermione reached down and pulled her nightgown off in a quick smooth motion.

Minerva let out a gasp as her eyes feasted on the curve of Hermione's rounded buttocks, the play of muscles in shapely thighs, the smooth expanse of her back, long dark chestnut hair cascading over pale skin. The younger witch was truly stunning.

Hermione tossed her hair over her shoulder as she turned her head to look at the open-mouthed witch still sat on the bed. "You coming?" She kept walking, fairly confident that Minerva would follow her.

The older witch gulped, shocked into immobility as Hermione left the room. It took a moment for the vision of beauty to fade and the younger womans words to sink into her brain. Minerva practically lept off of the bed and rushed into the bathroom.

Thanks to the power of magic, the water was already running and hot – as Minerva crossed the threshold Hermione was stepping into the cubicle. And if the younger witch was stunningly attractive when dry, she was positively glorious when wet – a siren. The animagus stood on the tile floor, just staring.

Hermione tilted her face up into the spray, running both hands across her features and up to her hair smoothing it down on her head – all too aware of her audience. Minerva quickly pulled off her nightshirt and pyjama bottoms, not taking her eyes off of the alluring woman as she stepped into the shower behind her.

Bubbles cascaded over Hermione's back as she began to wash her hair. Minerva swallowed as they followed the line of the young womans spine. "Pass me the soap?" Her voice was a little rough, it had been so long since they had done this. Wordlessly the young witch handed her a pink bar of soap and stepped back, allowing Minerva access to the water while she massaged conditioner into her chestnut curls.

It was when Minerva started to wash her back a few minutes later that Hermione took the bar out of her hands. "Allow me." Starting at the older womans shoulders she began to soap the soft skin, working her way slowly down the length of the back that she knew so well. She felt rather than heard the small moan that erupted at her touch and the way that Minerva immediately stiffened. "Relax."

The washing turned into more of a massage as Hermione brushed a soapy hand down the side of her ribs, across the small of her back and her bum. This time when Minerva moaned, she did not stiffen but one hand rested on the wall. The young woman chuckled and handed the soap back to her.

Minerva turned around rinsing the bubbles off of her skin, before gesturing for Hermione to step under the showerhead and wash the lather out of her hair. The older woman tentatively began to rub soap onto that creamy skin, careful not to directly touch the young witch – hesitant, not trusting her self-control.

Hermione closed her eyes, once again letting the powerful spray fall on her face. Minerva had never been a hesitant lover, not even the first time... it had been tender, gentle, slow but passionate and loving. The self-assurance that was characteristic of the older woman had deserted her over the past few weeks and she wanted it back now more than anything.

She ran her hands through her hair one final time, lowering her gaze to the taps – not wanting to get out of the shower. "Minerva..." The single word was quiet and the older witch stepped closer to hear.

"Hmmm?"

"I'm not china, I won't break if you touch me!"

The soap slipped out of a suddenly lax grip, landing with a clatter. "Mione...I..."

Hermione bent down and picked it up. When she stood up, her body was closer to Minerva's – within a fraction of an inch of touching, she could feel the heat from wet skin tempting her own and she took a single small step backwards bringing them into full-body contact...

They both moaned...

Minerva began to tremble with a need that she couldn't repress...

Hermione could feel uneven breaths against the back of her neck...

The sparks that had always flowed so easily between the two women burst into flames...

The younger witch turned around...

Brown and green met in blazing contact...

Hermione's voice was deeper, husky – filled with need. "I need to feel your hands on my skin."

The older woman was lost, unable to remember the reasons why she was not already touching her lover, the reasons why she was not already deep inside her – where she so desperately wanted to be. Her hands rose to clasp shapely hips before sliding upwards, leaving goosebumps on Hermione's flanks, grazing full breasts and hard nipples before slipping into wet chestnut hair.

"Make love to me Minerva...please?"

Her lips were suddenly on the younger womans, they crashed together in an intimate, passionate affirmation of all their love and desire. In that kiss all hesitation was forgotten and the events of the past several years slipped away – it was just the two of them there in that perfect moment, in this kiss.

_"I don't want another heartbreak  
I don't need another turn to cry, no  
I don't want to learn the hard way  
Baby, hello, oh no, goodbye  
But you got me like a rocket  
Shooting straight across the sky_

_It' s the way you love me_  
_It's a feeling like this_  
_It's centripetal motion_  
_It's perpetual bliss_  
_It's that pivotal moment_  
_It's, ah, impossible_  
_This kiss, this kiss, unstoppable_  
_This kiss, this kiss_

_Cinderella said to Snow White_  
_'How does love get so off course? oh_  
_All I wanted was a white knight_  
_With a good heart, soft touch, fast horse_  
_Ride me off into the sunset_  
_Baby I'm forever yours'_

_It's the way you love me_  
_It's a feeling like this_  
_It's centripetal motion_  
_It's perpetual bliss_  
_It's that pivotal moment_  
_It's, ah unthinkable_  
_This kiss, this kiss, unsinkable_  
_This kiss, this kiss_

_You can kiss me in the moonlight_  
_On the rooftop under the sky, oh_  
_You can kiss me with the windows open_  
_While the rain comes pouring inside, oh_  
_Kiss me in sweet slow motion_  
_Let's let everything slide_  
_You got me floating, you got me flying_

_It's the way you love me_  
_It's a feeling like this_  
_It's centripetal motion_  
_It's perpetual bliss_  
_It's that pivotal moment_  
_It's, ah subliminal_  
_This kiss, this kiss, it's criminal_  
_This kiss, this kiss_

_It's the way you love me baby_  
_It's the way you love me, darlin', yeah_

_It's the way you love me_  
_It's a feeling like this_  
_It's centripetal motion_  
_It's perpetual bliss_  
_It's that pivotal moment_  
_It's, ah subliminal_  
_This kiss, this kiss"_

There was no need for Minerva to ask if Hermione was sure, or if she thought that this was the right moment. They both knew that the time was right. Molly's revelation the night before had been the absolution that they had needed, there was nothing left to do but move on with their relationship. Here and now they would put their final demons to rest.

Blindly Hermione reached behind her and turned off the shower. Without breaking that kiss Minerva swung the smaller woman up into her arms, stumbling a little as she carried her across the threshold and into the bedroom. Without pause or hesitation the older witch walked across the room and lay her soaking wet lover on the bed.

That was when their lips parted. Hermione was unsure if her dizziness was due to a lack of oxygen or the passion that was overwhelming her. They both smiled as their eyes met, chocolate and emerald meeting in love-fuelled desire and naked emotion. Minerva found herself tugged partly on top of the younger woman and they laughed together.

They began to kiss again, tongues duelling passionately. Hermione's hands caressed the sensitive skin of Minerva's flanks, knowing from experience what would drive the older woman crazy. Running gentle fingers over her ribcage, caressing a prominent hipbone and gently grazing the soft flesh of her lower abdomen with her fingernails – she elicited a cacophony of moans and sighs from the older woman.

The animagus found her own hands lingering on Hermione's breasts, gently circling her fingers moved around soft mounds – almost but not quite touching the swollen nipples that begged for her touch. Minerva tore her lips from the younger womans, kissing her way down the creamy slender neck – nibbling at the pulse point. As she expected Hermione's hips bucked in reaction.

This was not the tentative making of love that the younger woman had secretly dreaded. They had made love (or had sex) thousands of times, every touch was familiar, every caress knowing. Neither woman had any qualms about their ability to please the other. They knew exactly what their partner liked, what she loved and what would... **drive her wild**.

Hermione was shaking when Minerva shifted her weight onto her knees, straddling the young witch and began to trail kisses in the valley between her full breasts. Now that the older woman did not need an arm to support her weight, she used both hands to tease the swollen mounds – while still trailing lips and tongue over the soft skin.

Suddenly the young witch felt her nipple pulled into Minerva's hot wet mouth, she threw her head back and cried out. As the older woman began to suckle, one hand started to tend to the other breast, while the second caressed the heated skin of Hermione's stomach. "That feels...oooh."

Skilled lips, tongue and fingers paid homage to the sensitive nub, moving in a way that was calculated to drive Hermione into a frenzy. And it was working, the young woman was squirming underneath her – with hands clutching long wet ebony hair, alternating between trying to push her head lower and holding her tighter against the breast that Minerva's mouth was worshiping.

The animagus drew another series of incoherent noises from her lover before pulling back. An impish impulse drove her to gently blow on the wet swollen nipple, it tightened even more and Hermione's hips lifted off of the mattress once again. She leant forward, beginning to kiss and nip at the skin of the soft stomach – shuffling backwards as she did so.

Minerva did not need animagus senses to smell the younger womans intense arousal. The wonderful scent increased by the second, making her lightheaded. Hermione gave a frustrated moan, trying to open her legs. The older woman chuckled against the sensitive flesh of the younger witch's stomach before moving so that she was kneeling between shapely parted thighs.

Two hands slid slowly up and down those wonderful legs, fingernails gently rasping across the skin as she traced arousing patterns on the tender flesh. An elegant cheek rested for a moment on moist chestnut curls and Minerva felt as though she was home. Moving her hands back to Hermione's hips, she finally lowered her mouth to wet, swollen folds.

The sensation was beyond wonderful, it was glorious and the younger witch arched her back – trying to increase the contact. A naughty tongue flicked across her aching core, Minerva keeping the touch light – moving back and forth between Hermione's swollen bud and her dripping entrance. The older witch moaned at the taste.

Hermione chuckled breathlessly, "Minerva... I... want... to taste... you too."

Lick.

Lick.

Lick.

"All in good time my dear." The six words were muffled against Hermione's intimate flesh. She drew the aching clit into her mouth.

A hand tangled in ebony tresses, trying to encourage the older woman to stop the actions that were making it impossible to think. "Please?"

Minerva could refuse her nothing. She reluctantly left her position and crawled around the mattress, moving and swinging her leg over so that she was on top of Hermione. Keeping her weight on her knees, and bracing herself on her arms she returned her attention back to the young womans core. Hermione gasped when the older womans tongue resumed its assault.

That wasn't the only reason why she gasped, Hermione had an eyeful of the most wonderful view she had ever known. Minerva was straddling her, naked and resplendent in all her glory. She could see a beautiful tight backside, damp black curls, swollen lips, an erect clitoris peeping out and she began to pant in anticipation. Her need to taste and to please the older witch was unbearable.

Hermione's hands caressed the smooth globes of Minerva's bum before grasping slender hips and pulling the older womans sex against her mouth. Her nimble tongue darted out applying a rapid, firm flicking motion against the hard bud.

"Merlin... 'Mione."

The young womans nose was pressed against Minerva's entrance; all she could smell was the older womans arousal, all she could taste was the tangy nectar of her lover and all she could feel was the oh so delightful sensation of a practiced tongue sliding over her own intimate flesh. Hermione's moan caused the animagus to buck her hips, lustily grinding her sex into the younger witches face.

Simultaneously Minerva thrust her tongue into the tight wet channel of the temptress underneath her. She wanted to grin when Hermione dug her fingers into her skin in response but her mouth was otherwise occupied. The Headmistress lost the ability to think when lips wrapped around her sensitive nub and began to suck.

They devoured each other with practiced skill...

Tongues dancing over sensitive flesh...

Knowingly...

Lovingly...

Hermione knew that Minerva needed more stimulation in this position, she brought two fingers to the tease the older womans opening. She felt the wanting quiver of the thigh muscles pressed up against either side of her head and knew that it was time. In a smooth motion she entered Minerva's tight sleeve, curling them to hit the sensitive spot inside.

The older womans cry was muffled by Hermione's flesh, the feeling was exquisite and she knew it would only be a matter of time before she climaxed. Minerva began to lap faster, applying more pressure – intensifying the sensations.

Bodies began to shake...

Muscles began to contract in rhythmic spasm...

Hermione bucked up into the animagus...

Minerva's internal walls clenched around the younger womans fingers...

Two voices cried out in unison...

Complete.

A minute or so passed. The only sound in the room was two women breathing heavily, both coming down from their mutual orgasm. Hermione gave one final teasing thrust, hearing a groan escape the older witch – she smirked and withdrew her fingers. Minerva rolled off of her mate and spun around with a surprising agility to lay her head on the pillow and draw the young woman into her arms.

The kiss they exchanged was little more than a peck, both of them too breathless to maintain the contact. Foreheads rested against each other, as they stared into each others eyes - whispering proclamations of love into the emotionally charged moment. Arms were wrapped possessively around sweaty bodies as they held each other tightly.

"That was..."

"Wonderful..."

"Amazing."

They both laughed. Exchanging another sweet kiss. "I love you 'Mione."

"I love you too Minerva."

"I cannot believe that you seduced me in the shower." She gave a wry chuckle. "Wantonly stripping your clothes off like that."

"Mmmm hmmm. Well it was about time."

Gentle lips brushed against the base of Hermione's throat. The passion that they had been feeling flared once again, they may have each had a powerful climax but the two women were far from sated.

Minerva grinned when she found herself pressed onto her back with Hermione straddling her upper legs. Elegant hands ran up sensitive thighs and one slid in to the drenched curls at their apex. The young woman bucked slightly increasing the pressure when a thumb rubbed against her needy flesh.

They stared at each other, eyes darkened with want, desire, passion and lust.

But there was another more powerful need building between them; this need was not physical, it was emotional and impossible to resist. Both women needed to reconnect in a way that was more than physical, bruised souls needed the balm of being intimately joined.

Hermione's wand lept into her hand, responding to a wordless charm. Her eyes had never left the older womans, which were dilated with eager passion and were very willing. She knew that her voice had deepened with desire when she saw Minerva's eyes darken further upon hearing her speak. "Ready?"

"Yessss."

"Engorgio Clitorio."

Both women looked down as Minerva's clitoris grew long and thick. The very embodiment of her desire and need to be inside of the younger woman. A wanton moan escaped two sets of lips at the same moment and their eyes met again.

The older witch moved both hands to ample hips...

Hermione leant forward feeling as she did so, the hardness of Minerva's arousal pressing against her lower belly. She placed both hands flat on the mattress, on either side of the older womans shoulders. Bracing herself on them as she shifted forwards, loving the sensation as Minerva's engorged pearl slid through wet curls to tease her entrance.

In a practiced motion the older woman pressed her hand between their bodies and gripped the base of her shaft - guiding. Hermione eased herself backwards, moaning as she felt pressure against her entrance and then inside as she stretched to accommodate Minerva's arousal. Her hands shifted on the mattress and she pushed her body back allowing the older witch to fill her completely.

Both women cried out at the overwhelming sensation.

Never breaking eye-contact as the younger witch started to move. Keeping her weight on her hands she began to rock back and forth. Both of Minerva's hands were on Hermione's hips once again, guiding her movements as the young woman began to speed up.

"Min...eh.."

The room filled with grunts and cries of pleasure. Hermione's rhythm became almost frantic, her breasts bouncing against Minerva's with every thrust, in a way that was extremely arousing. The older witch couldn't resist her desire and began to caress the full, ample assets of the younger woman – tweaking erect nipples in the way that she knew Hermione loved.

The young woman, arched her back and adjusted her position into a more upright one. She was bouncing up and down now – crying out at the deeper penetration. Still wet chestnut tresses flowed over pale shoulders and sweaty skin – onto Minerva's hands.

The older witch could feel a rhythmic tightening of the muscles that gripped her arousal and she knew that her lover was close, very close. One hand abandoned a breast and left a trail of fire over Hermione's abdomen and slipped into the darker curls that covered her sex.

Minerva's thumb pressed against Hermione's clit, rubbing in time with the younger womans movement while her other hand was still toying with an erect nipple. The brunette yelped at the overload of sensations before beginning to make rhythmic guttural noises.

"Come for me 'Mione." Minerva's words were panted, breathless with her own building pleasure. Every thrust of the young womans hips was driving her slowly insane. She had been mentally reciting Ruskin's Advanced Transfiguration Law for the past several minutes, trying to contain her orgasm until Hermione was ready.

"I'm... oh god...I'm... Minervvvvvvaaaaaaaa!" The brunette ground her hips against the older womans as her internal muscles clamped down on Minerva's engorged clit.

The animagus let out a roar as she rode out her own climax.

It was the most intense orgasm that they had ever shared. Happy tears shone in both their eyes – as they struggled to get their breathing under control. After a minute or two Minerva rolled them both over, so that she was lying between the younger womans legs. She pressed a teasing kiss on each nipple, before gently pulling out of Hermione's body and collapsing next to her on the mattress. Spent.

The two exhausted women lay next to each other, their arms and legs touching as they panted. Minerva reversed the charm and tossed her wand on the bedside table.

Finally Hermione gave a chuckle, "Remember the first time that we did that?"

"Mmmm hmmm. I remember that we both fell off of the bed and you had carpet burns on your..."

"Oh shush." They both laughed, before Hermione continued. "We'd only had the bed for a day."

"Indeed. We had spent a fortnight sleeping on that mattress you stole from headquarters."

"Shopping was far too much effort. I just wanted to spend all of my time in your arms."

Minerva smiled, "As did I. Sneaking around had grown... tiresome." There was a pause, the older woman leant over and dropped a kiss on Hermione's lips.

"I'm glad we signed the paperwork on the house. You were right Minerva we need a new start."

"What brought that up?"

"We moved here when our relationship went from an affair to a partnership. I think that we are starting another phase now."

The older woman nodded. "I love you Hermione. You mean the world to me."

"And I you."

"I could do with some breakfast... You wore me out!" Hermione laughed as Minerva rolled on top of her, kissing her soundly.

"And I intend to do so again." Another kiss, "And again." Kiss. "And again."

The young womans hands slid down to cup Minerva's buttocks, "A snack then... Looks like I am going to need the energy."

"What would you like?" The older witch moaned as she felt herself being pulled tighter against Hermione's naked body and lips pressed against her throat. "We have plenty of Ginger Nuts..."

* * *

**A.N. Hope you enjoyed!**

**The song is 'This Kiss' by Faith Hill - I thought it was appropriate.**

**Dedicated as usual to my wonderful Tigertales who I would like to thank for giving me the confidence to borrow a certain charm for this story.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A.N. – Here's the final chapter for you to enjoy.**

* * *

"So... how are you two... doing?" Hooch was more than a little hesitant, dreading a positive response just as much as a negative one. She wasn't prepared for the blinding smile that lit up Hermione face.

"Wonderful. Everything's going great actually."

The flying instructor nodded. Feeling a sting in her heart that would have been a death knell a few weeks earlier. She had guessed as much, by the sheer fact of what she was doing.

"Sorry Hooch, I know that you don't want to hear that."

"Hermione..." Hooch magically lowered her burden, "All I want is for you to be happy. If Minerva bloody McGonagall makes you happy and is behaving herself... I can live with that."

The two friends hugged, "How's it going with you and Julie?"

"We're spending a lot more time together, dating I guess you'd wanna call it." The yellow eyed witch grinned, "Now where do you want this sofa?"

* * *

_Dearest Hermione_

_Filius has insisted that I take this evening off rather than him, rather sweet of him. He said something about ensuring that Hooch hadn't accidentally moved us into the wrong house... which of course I said was nonsense._

_I will bring dinner with me to save you cooking. I wish that I could have been there today. Please give my regards to Madam Hooch._

_All my love_

_Minerva_

The young witch smiled when she received Minerva's owl. It was everything that she had come to expect from the older woman; sweet, caring, loving and it gave her a warm feeling inside. It was unfortunate for them both that by the time the sale on the new house had completed the headmistress had been due back at Hogwarts. But Hooch had stepped in to help.

It was pretty odd to have Minerva's self-declared love rival helping them move house but Hooch had insisted. With that thought in mind Hermione walked over to the spiky haired witch and gave her a friendly punch on the arm. "Hey!"

"Yeah like it hurt."

"Ouch..." Hooch snuffled, trying to garner sympathy.

"Awww diddums." She reached out and vigorously rubbed the 'sore' spot. "Thanks for helping."

"Anytime. Although I was going to ask what was in it for me..."

"Tell ya what, we'll move those last few things and then I'll buy you lunch."

Hooch hefted the final few stacks of shrunken boxes and headed for the library.

Hermione called after her, "And you can tell me all about how Julie is in the sack..." As the young womans words registered, Hooch dropped the boxes she was carrying with a loud crash.

* * *

"Honey I'm home..."

Minerva's eyes flashed around the hallway, noting that her boxes had been delivered from the school and were neatly stacked.

"In the library sweetheart."

The air was redolent with the scent of polish and cleaning supplies, it made the house feel more like home. She walked into the former dining room to see a huge amount of bookshelves, many of the volumnes stacked upon them were her own but Hermione owned literally thousands of books, more than Minerva had suspected. "Did you buy any more books perchance?"

"A few." They smiled at each other and a tired looking Hermione stepped out from behind a shelf. "I love you."

"Love you too 'Mione."

"How long do you have?" The young woman stepped into Minerva's outstretched arms and tilted her head in expectation of the kiss she knew was coming.

The headmistress quirked her lips in response to the flirtatious tone in her partners voice and leant in a little closer – teasingly brushing a light kiss across Hermione's cheek. "What would you say if I said that I do not have to return to Hogwarts until breakfast?"

"I'd say, great you can help me unpack."

Both women laughed before Hermione brought her hand to Minerva's face and guided the older woman in for a more passionate kiss. Arms wrapped around each other as passion rose, hands began to explore, bodies pressed tightly against their mate. Hairpins fell to the floor in a musical cascade, as ebony hair was freed from its restrictive bun by eager fingers.

"Dinner is getting cold." Minerva had broken away from her love. "...'Unpacking'... can wait my love."

"Hurry up and eat, yeah?"

"What is the urgency?"

"I want you!"

"Oh really?" Another blistering kiss was initiated by Minerva but it was briefer than the previous one. She took Hermione by the hand and led her into the kitchen. "Food first."

The younger witch grinned as Minerva pulled out her chair in a chivalrous gesture and invited her to sit down. She watched as brown bags were retrieved from the hall where the ebony haired woman had left them. The aroma of coconut and heady spices rose from the bags. "Thai?"

"Just something I picked up in Chiang Mai."

Hermione shook her head incredulously, "You said that you were bringing dinner and you go to Thailand to get it."

"What is the point of having magic and not using it?"

The younger woman chuckled, "Good point. Do you need a hand?"

"Uh... Would you mind opening this?" Minerva handed her a bottle of wine and two glasses.

"Sure."

Moving with her natural speed and grace Minerva moved the food onto serving plates and placed them on the table. She put two glasses next to Hermione and leaned in for a sweet kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too."

Forks and plates followed, Minerva warmed the china with a simple charm and finally sat next to Hermione. The elder witch raised her wineglass, inviting a toast. "To us."

"To us." The young woman echoed the sentiment, chocolate eyes fastened intently on Minerva's in a contact that was more intimate than any they had ever shared. "And to new beginnings..."

"New beginnings."

* * *

Dinner was almost finished, along with most of the bottle of wine. The conversation between them had developed sexual overtones and they were currently discussing a rather naughty dream of Hermione's. "I think in order to fulfil that particular fantasy... we would have to wait until Hogwarts is closed for the summer."

"Minerva... you would..?"

An elegant hand reached across the table and covered Hermione's for a moment. "Yes... that sounds rather intriguing."

"Do you have any fantasies that you would like to... make a reality?" The young woman looked up through her lashes coquettishly, knowing that she was squirming in her seat and pressing her thighs together.

Minerva smirked and leant back in her chair, crossing her legs to attract attention to their shapely form, she remained silent for a moment – swirling the last sip of wine around in her glass absentmindedly while she observed the younger woman. "Well there is one..." She lifted it to her mouth, swallowing the liquid before licking her lips – knowing that Hermione was watching her every movement.

"And?" The brunette's voice was a little breathless as her desire was intensified by Minerva's deliberately provocative actions and by the growing passion burning in deep emerald eyes.

"And... Ms Hermione Granger, author of the most highly regarded history books of the last century... who wrote them at **THAT** desk..."

There was an odd cadence in Minerva's voice as she gestured towards the library. It took Hermione a moment to catch up. "...That desk..?" Her words came out in a squeak.

"Mmmm, yes." Minerva sat up and leant in closer to her love, one hand grasping the back of Hermione's chair as her voice dropped into an intimate near-whisper. "The thought of you... sitting at that desk, trying to write while I slip underneath and kneel down... is rather sexy. You pretend not to notice me and I can hear you scratching away with your quill."

One hand slid onto Hermione's thigh, very lightly running up and down the fabric, caressing. "You are wearing one of those elegant pencil skirts and I run both hands up your legs, cupping your calves, tickling the sensitive spot at the back of your knees. The scratching of the quill starts to slow down but you are still ignoring me or trying to."

Minerva was closer now, her lips grazing Hermione's ear with every word that she whispered. "I start to slide the skirt up your thighs, caressing them as I do so. Just high enough so that I can part your legs. I look up and I have the most wonderful view of those sexy lacy knickers you tease me with. There is a rather large wet patch."

Hermione was shivering with desire now. "I have to see how aroused you really are, so I hook my fingers in the fabric and pull them down. The movement of your quill falters, just for a second. Half-naked, wanton and needy – you almost give up the pretence, you have long since forgotten what you are writing in any case. My hands slide under you, cupping that wonderful arse and pull you towards my mouth."

One of the young womans hands grabbed a fistful of Minerva's green teaching robe and she tried to quell her heavy breathing. "The first time that my tongue grazes your clitoris, you arch into my mouth and drop the quill. All pretence is gone. You cannot write any longer, all you can do is feel. I am licking you frantically now, tasting your arousal, showing you how much I want you."

This time Hermione did moan, clutching tighter at her lover. She was squirming more now, shifting her legs – trying desperately to get some pressure where she needed it most. "You lift one leg now, resting it on the edge of the desk, opening yourself to me completely. You are so wet baby, so ready for me. I slide two fingers deep inside you... you make that high pitched yelp that you always do at first but before long it changes into more primal, guttural noises. Especially when I curl my fingers so that I can hit your sweet spot."

Hermione bit her lip – hard. "You are bucking in your chair, thrusting, desperate now. I wrap my lips around your clitoris and begin to suckle rhythmically. I am still deep inside you, moving faster now." Minerva's own breathing was extremely rapid. "I can feel you start to spasm around my fingers, your sleeve gripping me tightly and I begin to wonder what it would be like to engorge and take you from behind, up against that desk."

Her words were cut off by Hermione pushing her away and standing up. The two witches stood toe to toe panting heavily, dark emerald stared into almost black orbs. Minerva smirked when a whispered spell came from the younger womans lips, it transfigured her clothing into a very formal looking pencil skirt and jacket.

"I'm um... going to do some writing... at my desk..." Moving hastily Hermione practically ran out of the room.

* * *

Minerva gently shook Hermione awake very early the next morning, it was still dark and the young woman really didn't want to wake up. "Mmmmm... wha?"

"I have a few hours before I have to be at work, I wondered if you fancied breakfast with me first?"

"Love ta."

The two women groggily got out of bed. It was after all very early and they had not gotten much sleep the previous night. Hermione perked up a little as she admired the sway of Minerva's hips as the older witch walked towards the en-suite. Chocolate eyed flicked to the clock and she smirked. There was not only plenty of time for breakfast but also ample time to ravish her partner in the shower.

She caught a flash of emerald as Minerva glanced at her around the door. "'Mione'..?" The three syllables were issued softly but with a sensual promise that made the young woman shiver. Hermione grinned broadly and followed the older witch into the shower.

Life was grand.

* * *

**A.N. Thank you for sticking with me through this journey. The path to true love is not always a smooth one which is the main theme of this story. "All you need is love!"**


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